Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wisps of smoke permeate the air, drifting underneath dim pendant lamps and creeping into every corner of the office. There’s no ventilation to clear the atmosphere, but Erwin doesn’t mind. He enjoys the rich, fermented scent lingering from his last cigar.

A fresh letter sits in his hand, one plucked from the stack of mail on his desktop. Refined, educated handwriting has scripted the name of his business on the face of the folio paper. It’s anonymous, but the quality of the wax seal indicates the sender must be of reasonable socioeconomic status.

That bodes well for Erwin. Wealthy customers are careless, squirrelly, and agreeable. They’re never satisfied with one visit—often back within a fortnight and requesting pricier services. They always need more, and Erwin can provide once he receives a substantial payment. He knows how to please customers and he knows how to keep them crawling back to his business.

The contents of the letter are to be expected. An interest in his employees, a promise of large sums of money, a flirtatious eagerness to initiate a business transaction. There’s a specific interest in fresh meat, or a meal that has remained relatively untouched.

Erwin frowns. He can’t seriously be expected to provide a virgin, can he? A quality like that is next to impossible to come by in this society.

The message is signed with the pseudonym Beast, an artificial title that Erwin finds quite pretentious. This potential client must think they’re some god of fornication to craft a name so arrogant.

Either way, they’ll pay well. Even if they don’t, the letter is enough of blackmail. This handwriting doesn’t seem forced—it must be their actual style. A handwriting comparison and a declaration to the public is enough of a threat to doom this elitist if they try to worm out of paying.

Finding an adequate performer may be difficult, though. Most of Erwin’s courtesans are older and experienced, proficient in dominant experience to please clients who want to be pleasured without having to think. Even his submissive types are lewd sluts, donning personas of innocence or clumsiness to entice grubby animals that want to taint something pure.

Erwin will likely provide one of the latter, one of his boys who has mastered the look of a naive beginner despite his count nearly reaching the hundreds. It’s an act, but his client’s cock won’t care enough to tell the difference.

He reminds himself to give Beast higher priority, sensing a generous repeat customer on the horizon. The letter is set aside, the next presenting itself underneath.

This work seems never-ending. With a sigh, Erwin decides to reward himself with a cigar.

As he checks his desk drawer, the door to his office creaks open a crack. Erwin glances up, wondering who on earth has the gall to invade his space unannounced. His men wouldn’t do that, nor any clients. Nobody should enter the boss’s room without permission.

“Who is it?” he calls, daring the intruder to reveal themselves.

Thin, slender fingers—like those of a woman—curl around the door, widening the gap to let the body enter. Brimming with trepidation, the trespasser slinks inside, revealing their small frame and suspicious eyes to Erwin.

It’s not a woman. Maybe not, anyways. The limbs are thin, though they’re built of muscles that must be sculpted with just enough testosterone. The shoulders are proportionally broad and the chest is flat, lacking breasts but making up for it with firm, contoured pectorals. They’re hidden under grey silk, blanketed in the thin, flowing dress covering the body.

Alas, most of the form is cloaked under that scrap of clothing. It hides a small waist and clings to solid thighs, stopping midway down them. Hairless, ivory legs are free for Erwin’s eyes to take in, pressed shyly together with crossed knees and bare feet furrowing into the floor.

No shoes? Where are its shoes?

Erwin jumps back up to its face and is instantaneously envious. That jaw is sharp, a perfect mix of femininity and masculinity, youth and age. The cheekbones are visible, but there’s just enough healthy chub covering them. A small nose is taking thin, filtered breaths, fighting against the polluted atmosphere threatening to clog its lungs. The diamond face is crowned with dark, luscious hair, an inky waterfall exactly opposite Erwin’s hairstyle. Narrow eyes hide behind the thin locks, set in a venomous glare with steel irises staring down their new target.

Bashful, yet resolved. How does this guest combine both simultaneously? Erwin’s amazed.

“Who’re you?” he asks, remembering that this stranger does not yet deserve his praise.

The door is clicked shut, the small frame pinning its back against it. “I’m looking for work.”

It takes a heavy amount of self-control to avoid saying yes immediately. Erwin wonders if this is a test from the powers above. Here is a perfect specimen, too perfect—there must be a catch. Something has to be wrong with this body.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The visitor scoffs, his glare deepening.

Quite the way to respond to a potential employer, Erwin thinks. This candidate either doesn’t know whose office he’s in or thinks he’s mighty enough to act so boldly.

“My name is Levi.”

Pretty name, at the very least. Pseudonym or not, it’s a fine label for this product.

Erwin relaxes his shoulders, relieving tension he didn’t know he was holding. He ought to kick out this street cat, but he’s not going to throw this opportunity away.

“Did nobody stop you on the way to my office?”

“Nobody saw me.”

“None of my men?”

“None.”

Unbelievable. Erwin’s not manic about security, but it’s unsettling to think how easily this body made its way to him. He makes a mental note of it.

“I want work,” Levi repeats. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I understand that.” Erwin’s not deaf. “Do you expect me to take you in, just like that?”

Levi locks his jaw and folds his arms, small and defensive. “I don’t know. I’ll do what’s needed to convince you, I suppose.”

Desperate, yet flippant. Determined and reluctant. This enigma just grows more fascinating.

“You have a strange way of negotiating, Levi.” Erwin returns his attention to the drawer, cleaving open the cigar box within. He selects one and brings it to his fingers, pinching and testing the firmness of the roll. His large fingers are gentle but strict in their inspection. “Still,” he continues with a glance up at the applicant. “You’re too pretty to pass up right away. Step closer.”

Steel eyes glance back at the door as if bidding his exit farewell before naked feet bring the model to Erwin. The dress gleams with the sway of his hips, streaks of light following the creases in the fabric as it stretches over his pelvis. He tugs its hem down as he walks past a sitting area—two couches flanking a coffee table—and to Erwin’s desk.

Erwin picks up a cigar cutter. “Do you know what sort of business goes on here?”

“Do you think I’m daft?” Levi snaps.

Erwin doesn’t flinch. He guides the cigar’s cap into the mouth of the cutter. “Is that how you should be speaking to me?”

The tip of the cigar pops off. Erwin’s vibrant eyes find Levi’s.

“That’s not how you go about earning my approval.”

Levi throws his gaze elsewhere. “I just think it’s a dumb question,” he defends. “Of course I know what happens here. I know what I’m getting into.”

“What you might get into. You’re not accepted yet.”

Levi huffs nasally, trying to keep his reactions smaller, less noticeable.

Erwin lets him pout while he finds a brass lighter. He flicks the cap open and ignites the wide, yellow flame.

“Just give me work,” Levi mumbles, fixing the soft sleeve of his dress.

“No.” Erwin needs to mould this animal. Excessive privileges would be a terrible start. “You don’t take, and I don’t give.”

“Then…what—”

“You earn. I reward. That’s the system in place here.” Erwin hovers the tip over the flame, evenly rotating the cylinder. “You don’t seem to comprehend the first thing about this business. I’m inclined to think you genuinely are daft.”

Stabbed with indignance, Levi flares with rage. “I’m not,” he seethes, fighting to keep his temper restrained.

“Intelligent folks don’t come to work for me. They find work at the academies or the courts. Bodies matter more than minds here.”

“I’m not a fucking scholar, but—”

“Watch your tongue. That sort of language isn’t appropriate.”

Levi shuts up, his brow twitching. He’s a terrible interviewee with a sour attitude and no regard for due respect. If he weren’t so damn beautiful, he’d be tossed onto the street by now.

Although, that repulsive personality has some charm in it. Erwin’s finding pleasure in watching the rabid animal thrash.

“Fine,” Levi acquiesces stiffly. “I won’t swear.”

He can obey; what a wonder. Erwin inspects the greyed cigar tip and blows softly on it. It’s brought back to the flame.

“If you want me to consider you, you will ask. Not demand.” He doesn’t grace Levi with eye contact, not when nothing has been done to deserve it. “Try it.”

Levi’s humiliated, timid like a poor student sent to the principal’s office. He instinctively crosses his arms, then drops them a second later as if presenting his body will help his delivery. His body is rigid as he finds the words deep in his head, forcing them onto his tongue.

“Will…will you consider me for business?” He pauses. “Mr. Smith?”

Erwin grins, withholding a laugh. “Mr. Smith?” he asks, peering down the barrel of his smouldering cigar. “That’s the title you thought would be adequate?”

Levi’s pale cheeks are a hot red, a sight that Erwin is sure many clients would love. “You didn’t tell me what to call you. How was I supposed to—”

“In this House, I’m the Master. Most houses have that sort of hierarchy, Levi.”

“Well—fine. I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Erwin sighs, shooting an arrow into Levi’s heart. “Try it again. Use your head, and add more courtesy.”

Levi’s fists clench into the fabric of his dress as he makes another attempt. “Will you please consider me, Master?”

Levi’s answer is phenomenal—the blood pooling in Erwin’s pelvis is enough proof of that. He follows the plume of smoke from his cigar tip up until he sees Levi’s expression again.

“Why should I?”

Perfect, thin hands smooth the dress back out, advertising to Erwin before Levi even needs to speak.

“I’m a good worker,” Levi begins. “I have stamina and strength. I can take a lot and I’ll accept a low salary.”

Erwin takes the virgin puff from his cigar as he listens. The taste is rich as it swirls in his mouth, a pleasant delicacy to enjoy during this show.

“Words of a desperate boy,” he reproves, smoke escaping his lips and licking his cheeks. “Anybody destitute enough will say that.”

Levi’s nose wrinkles at the sight of the expelled smoke. “I’m not just saying bullshit because I’m poor—”

“Language.”

Levi scoffs. “I’m not just saying that because I’m poor. I mean it. I’ll outlast any client or employee—wouldn’t you want a tireless worker?”

Cheeky prick, egging him on like that. No proper subordinate should taunt their master.

“You’re fit,” Erwin notes. “A little underfed, but not terribly so. Clean skin and washed hair—tell me, are you always this well-groomed?”

“I try to be.”

“And are you always wrapped up in dresses that are too small for you?”

Levi squeezes his thighs together. “No.”

“No. Just for me, then? Just for superiors you want to seduce into accepting you?”

Steel irises roll. “Kind of.”

“Well, it’s a wasted effort.” Erwin shifts back in his seat, disappointed with the seducer. “There’s no point getting pretty when your personality sours it.”

When Levi gets those insulted, angry wrinkles in his expression, that just means he’s losing and he’s panicking. It makes him antsy, desperate, and obsequious. Pissing him off subjugates him.

“I said I’ll do anything to convince you. Just let me prove myself—I don’t know. Let me do something.”

“Again with the demanding. I’d instruct you, but your head can’t seem to remember just one command for longer than a minute.”

In the startled silence that follows, Erwin relishes another serving of his cigar. He lets smoke billow around the roll and cloud his face while Levi scrambles for a response.

“Fine. Master,” Levi starts suddenly, and loudly. “I—well, please. Please tell me—no, will you please instruct me on what to do…Master?”

Absolutely delectable. Erwin’s hungry for more.

“Gladly, Levi.” He gestures his cigar to the wide desktop. “Kneel on my desk. I’ll evaluate your body.”

Levi scans the surface as if it were a cliff face he has to scale. He puts small hands on the mahogany and inches a knee up to the edge, but hesitates. Retreating, he strategizes a way to get up without his dress riding up.

Erwin watches the struggle, pondering. It’s adorable to see the newcomer fight for dignity, but it’s peculiar, too. Employees here embrace shame and vulnerability, something that this candidate is trying to avoid. Erwin finds his mindset fresh. Untainted.

Levi’s eventual plan is to be quick, throwing bent knees onto the table before anything between them is revealed. He scoots to the centre and kneels, his hips resting on his ankles and his hands keeping the dress’s hem in place.

He’s pretty, but he could be prettier.

“Straighten your spine and square your shoulders. Show me good posture.”

Levi does, even jutting his chin up, but his glaring eyes are fixed on his sculptor.

“Look at the magnolia.” Erwin nods to the massive painting hanging up behind him, a picture of hands clambering through thorny brambles to reach a snowy magnolia flower. “Don’t take your eyes off it.”

The glare dissipates as Levi looks straight ahead, transformed into an expressionless object. He’s ready for inspection now.

Erwin pinches the cigar between his teeth and shifts forward, bringing his hands to Levi’s. Every single digit is inspected, nearly worshipped. Once he frees them from the hem they clutch, he holds them in his own and marvels at just how small they are. Pale and dainty, nothing like Erwin’s.

They twitch against him and Erwin looks up to find Levi averting his head, his eyes wincing.

“The magnolia, Levi.”

“I can’t—can’t stand that smoke.”

This moment is when Erwin has to admit to himself that this pet will need a lot of work. Disappointed, he takes the cigar from his mouth and rises to his full height, looming over his toy.

“Many of our clients smoke.” Erwin grasps Levi’s chin, his broad palm covering the entire jaw. “You’re going to have to build a tolerance.”

He sucks a cloud into his mouth before drawing close to Levi’s face, close enough to kiss the creature.

Instead, he blows gently, dousing Levi in a thick, suffocating atmosphere. Levi grimaces and squirms in Erwin’s grip, his moist eyes slamming shut. He coughs, his throat scorched. Frantic hands clasp around Erwin’s wrist and tug, resisting Erwin’s training.

“Stop it,” Levi gnarls, fighting the urge to breathe.

“Hands down, Levi. Keep them in your lap.”

“The smoke—get the smoke away—”

“The smoke isn’t leaving until you obey. Hands down.”

Levi freezes up when Erwin draws the cigar back to his lips and he’s quick to obey before the threat is executed. He shoves his balled hands into his thighs, his body locked up and tense.

Regardless, Erwin repeats the process, exhaling and smothering Levi’s face a second time.

Tears prick at the corner of Levi’s burning eyes, but the horror of betrayal seems to wound him more. “No—you said—”

“You made me repeat myself, Levi.” Erwin digs fingertips into Levi’s cheeks, adoring how stupid his face looks when squished. “You chose to run your mouth instead of following orders. Do you think that’s right?”

“No—maybe not—but the smoke—”

“If you can’t stand the smoke, then you’re better off leaving. I’m not going to waste time making you comfortable.”

Levi shakes his head, remembering his plight and how important success is. “No. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Erwin doesn’t know Levi’s background, but he doesn’t need to. All he needs to know is that it’s horrible enough to make him sickeningly desperate for help. Whatever hell he lives in is worth selling his humanity to escape from.

Erwin intends to purchase it. He will add this treasure to his collection.

“You may be, but I’m not,” Erwin counters. “I’ve had a techy child invade my space and demand my protection without giving any reason as to why he deserves it. He scoffs and pouts and resists. I’m not fine with what I’ve been offered.”

Levi incinerates his anger, reformed by utter dismay. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he starts, his jaw aching from clenched teeth. “I won’t resist anymore. I’ll be…polite.”

“You had your chance. You had several chances. I’m sick of babysitting an irritable child.”

Levi’s about to shatter, watching his life slip away right in front of him. Erwin’s taking a risk by daring to abandon him, but Levi’s a susceptible and simple target. He will believe Erwin’s threat wholeheartedly.

“I didn’t mean to. Please, I’ll do anything—”

“Anything but obey, it seems.” Erwin retracts his hand, surprised to see Levi try to follow it.

“Wait.” Levi wants to be held again since that proves he is wanted at all.

“And back to telling me what to do. You’re impossible to fix.” Erwin circles his desk, noticing Levi pivoting to face him. “I’ll at least do you the favour of seeing you out.”

“No.” In Levi’s panic, he flings himself off the desk and crashes on the floor, scrambling in a delirious effort to approach the god of his fate. “I’m sorry—Master. I am sorry, Master. I’m sorry.”

Erwin smokes as he nears the door, even-tempered and calculating. “Hmm.”

“Let me try again,” Levi implores, hobbling closer on quavery limbs. “Will—will you please give me another chance, Master?”

Erwin absolutely will, but he’s not done instilling fear in this fresh meat. He grasps the door handle.

“Please!” Levi captures the boss’s shin, clinging to it with those perfect fingers. His ass sits on Erwin’s shoe as he tosses his head up, peering at the Master high above him. “Please, Master. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Erwin sees the street cat at his feet, and in the forefront, he sees the curve in his own slacks. This little gem is so irresistible, too much for Erwin to turn down.

“Levi.” Erwin lets his hand drop from the handle, promising something to his hostage.

“Yes?” Levi squints at him from his thigh, refusing to free his leg. “…Master?”

Erwin allows no compassion to own his expression as he rests heavy eyes on the delinquent. “The next time I have to repeat myself, you’re leaving this office, this House, and never coming back. Is that understood?”

Levi nods once. “Yes. That’s understood.”

Erwin doesn’t praise him for his response. “Get up.”

In less than a second Levi’s on his feet, finger-combing his hair and pulling down his dress.

“Back to the desk.”

Levi whips around and marches back, his actions brimming with stiff obedience. He’s quite malleable now.

Erwin leisurely follows. “Palms on the desktop. Spread feet.”

Levi hunches over the desk, nailing down his hands and dropping his head. His feet are barely shoulder-width apart and awfully close to the desk, obeying orders as pathetically as possible.

Standing behind him, Erwin ensures he remains aptly out of Levi’s sight. “Magnolia,” he orders, and Levi understands. The black crop of hair shifts up so those grey eyes can watch the inanimate flower.

“Levi.” With a cigar in one hand and the other coasting over the dress’s fabric, Erwin evaluates his model. “When I order you to position yourself like this, do you remotely think I’m interested in seeing a hunchback?”

“…What?”

“I intend to inspect what my clients are going to use. That doesn’t include the vertebrae that are jutting out when you try to tuck your hips in.” Erwin traces a line down the small of Levi’s back, his fingertip rippling through the fabric. “I expect you to present yourself. Diffidence is discouraged when your Master is handling you.”

Levi’s fingers curl into the mahogany as the realisation seeps into his head. He emits a thin huff, frustration as his exhibition of shame.

“Fix it.” Erwin detaches himself, taking one step back. “Show me what you think is appropriate.”

With short, tight breaths, Levi takes his time to process. Wheels turn over and over in his head as he stares down the magnolia, crafting a proper set of instructions.

The bare feet inch away from the desk and drift further apart. The spine bends in the other direction, forming a smooth slide to his ass as his head lifts from between his shoulders. It’s an improvement, albeit a timid one.

The dress is struggling to protect Levi’s decency. Its fabric wrinkles in the crevice between Levi’s asscheeks, contouring the hidden delicacy. Erwin’s intrigued.

He smokes while rubbing the hem up Levi’s ass, exposing it to the light. Every muscle in Levi’s body tenses, mortified by the display.

He doesn’t protest or run, however. He hates this, but he’s permitting it.

“Hm.” Erwin’s enraptured by the sight of a small, round ass, adoring the shape and pale hue. It’s firm under his pinching fingers with not much fat present to give it any cushion.

Erwin kneels, putting himself at eye level with Levi’s backside. He squeezes one cheek, testing its density, before coaxing it to the side to peer within.

“S-stop,” Levi ekes out, his toes twisting into the floor.

What a peculiar thing for a candidate to say. How does he intend to be hired if he doesn’t demonstrate his primary asset?

“Why?” Erwin’s amazed by the fine, almost non-existent hairs lining the inside of the cheek—he doesn’t come across immature features like this often. “Did you not enter my office to give your body to me? I won’t accept it without examining it.”

“I—I know.” Levi twists his head and winces. “It’s just—embarrassing.”

Embarrassing. It would be for common folk, but Levi has purposefully walked into a house of pleasure with every intent to work here. He has no right to be embarrassed.

Erwin must analyse this peculiarity. He rises with the cigar perched between his fingertips and rests a broad hand near Levi’s, shifting his weight onto his arm and hovering over the tiny, statue-esque form.

“I’m curious.” Erwin bores his eyes into the top of Levi’s motionless head. “Is this some sort of demonstration?”

“I suppose? I’m…demonstrating my body—”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s your attitude—repulsed and uncomfortable with being observed. Embarrassed. Is that an act of naivety?”

“What? Why would it be?”

“Why, indeed? Either you’re putting on a timid persona to promote yourself and your acting range, or you genuinely are bashful about this process. Which is it?”

“The…the latter.”

This convinces Erwin to slow down. His acquisition has been shy from the start, but realising those feelings are genuine startles Erwin.

Because this timidness surely comes from inexperience. Erwin hasn’t recruited a spotless employee in years—nearly all of his courtesans have backgrounds of pleasure and entertainment.

Erwin circles behind his prey, dragging a palm over his ass. “When’s your birthday?”

“December 25th, 1831.”

He’s twenty-four years old. Well, at least he’s not a literal child.

“I see.” Erwin slots fingers between his asscheeks, feeling them clench around his digits. He sends a fingertip in search of Levi’s hole, eventually prodding at it and sending a visible shudder down Levi’s spine.

“F-fuck,” Levi hisses under his breath, his expression wrought with panic.

“I’ve already given you two warnings about your foul tongue—”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Levi immediately apologises. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You never are.” Erwin circles the hole with a fingertip, watching Levi twitch and tense like a beginner.

Plus, the muscles are clean and puckered. Tight. Erwin has to confirm his suspicion.

“Are you a virgin, Levi?”

Levi shoots his head down, scoffing with a furrowed brow.

“No.”

“Magnolia,” Erwin reminds as he thinks on Levi’s answer. While the sharp jawline begrudgingly lifts again, Erwin wonders how Levi could be so confident in that answer. No part of his body nor his attitude is supporting his denial.

“Are you quite certain? You seem like one. You feel like one.”

“I think I would know,” Levi grits. “I’m not a virgin, I swear.”

“Very well.” With a shrug, Erwin dismisses the topic. Regardless of the truth, he still appears to be one. If he’s given adequate care, he can be sold as an untouched boy to clients. “Open your mouth.”

Levi lets his jaw drop an inch, exhaling through it.

He flinches when the cigar is brought to his lips. “No—”

“Hold this for me. Bite into it gently, and don’t suck on it.”

“It’s—it’s awful—”

“Bite, Levi,” Erwin barks, his tone dark and unforgiving.

Levi obeys, nimbly placing teeth on the roll and keeping his lips away from the wrapping. “Nh,” he groans, searching for a way to breathe oxygen instead of smoke.

“Don’t chomp into it, or you’ll ruin the cigar. I’d like to resume smoking it in a moment and I’d rather it remain intact.” Erwin makes his way around the desk. “Is that clear?”

“Nn–hn.”

“Good boy.” Erwin finds a glass vial in one of his desk drawers and twists it open as he returns to Levi’s backside. He hitches the dress up again before coating his fingertips in a dollop of slimy, transparent liquid.

He presses a wet fingertip into Levi’s hole, exerting more strength than usual to fit. His lack of elasticity means he’ll need quite a lot of preparation before rougher clients. Anyone can help with that—Erwin, one of the other courtesans, or Levi himself.

Levi spasms, coughing onto his cigar gag. His body is taut, but he’s making a valiant effort to stay quiet. He’s braced as though he’s having a bullet fished out of a wound, clearly suffering but attempting to convey strength.

“I just don’t believe you,” Erwin murmurs as his middle finger hilts in Levi. “You seem like you’ve never been touched in your life.”

The gagged candidate can’t answer. Erwin braces a hand against the small of Levi’s back and curls his buried finger, probing the insides and searching for sensitive spots. Every twitch and jolt that sparks in Levi’s body is mentally noted and connected to a particular motion or area. Erwin will memorise him, as he has with his other subordinates.

“You must relax. It’ll be easier for me to fit that way.”

His suggestion seems to have the opposite effect. Levi shoves his tongue into his throat to suppress groans as Erwin forces a second finger in, his body actively trying to expel the intruder. He’s stretched by Erwin’s digits, his ring searing hot.

Erwin enjoys Levi’s resilience. It’s delightful to watch him struggle in silence, a fresh sight after hundreds of moaning, whining mouths. As if remaining quiet will return him a shred of dignity, as if no noise suggests he dislikes this treatment. Whatever the reason, Erwin relishes the fight for composure.

It will be that much more glorious when he does break. Erwin vows to rip noises of pain and pleasure from this beginner’s throat, shredding him until he forgets who he is.

A third finger makes its way in, the digits scissoring and curling inside Levi. Erwin must fight against the remarkably resilient muscles in Levi’s ass, barely winning in his effort to stretch them.

“Clients don’t want partners that reject them,” Erwin teaches. “If they struggle to fit in you, they’ll complain and demand a refund. I cannot allow that.”

Levi lets a scoff shuffle out, but he does make an effort to relax. Erwin feels his asscheeks forcibly lose tension.

“Better,” Erwin hums as he thrusts in and out at a painfully slow tempo. The squelching, mushy sounds fill the air, stinging Levi’s ears and pleasuring Erwin’s. “Though this is merely a warmup. You’ll be expected to take far more than a few fingers.”

Levi has no reaction to give to that. He takes a filtered breath and keeps staring.

“But if you’re not a virgin, you should be used to the feeling.” Erwin’s free hand plucks the cigar from Levi’s teeth, bringing it back to his own lips. “Isn’t that right?”

Levi swallows down a pool of saliva and runs a hydrating tongue over his teeth. “That’s right. Master.”

“Good. Let’s see if that holds true.” Erwin loosens the fall front opening of his trousers while smoking, freeing a line of brass buttons running down the length of either hip. Underneath the flap, he undoes just a few centred buttons to access his drawers.

The shuffle of fabric startles Levi, like he isn’t expecting what’s coming next. He wants to glance back, to confirm his worry, but he’s intently focused on the magnolia. Thoughts whirl in his head like a cyclone, scrambling to coalesce into something fluent.

What he fears is coming true. Erwin shuffles his cock out, bringing his drenched hand to wet the stiff shaft. It’s been teased by the sight of this bumbling stranger long enough and it demands satisfaction.

“You’re—you’re going to…” Levi can’t even finish a sentence. He can’t bear to express what’s about to happen.

“Yes, I am. Any good merchant tests their product before they sell it.”

“But I’m n-not…” Levi stammers as his hole is kissed by Erwin’s tip, frozen from its touch. “Not ready.”

“That’s to be expected. Virgins tend to be reluctant about being deflowered.”

Trepidation switches back to irritation. “I’m not a virgin.”

“Then what is there to prepare for? This will be nothing new for you.”

“But—gh—”

Erwin grips Levi’s hip and pushes, bullying his way inside. Levi’s legs try to resist, to hold himself up, but they give way and succumb to Erwin’s pressure. His hips bury into the desk’s edge, pinched between it and Erwin’s invading member.

He drops to his elbows as Erwin’s sizable cock fills him, fusing his lips together to mute pained sounds. He’s able to take Erwin, though not without discomfort.

“Good start,” Erwin comments, pressing Levi’s back into the desk. “Nearly hilted.”

Nasally exhales are Levi’s response, the bottom bearing through the procedure as stiff as possible. His abs rub against the mahogany, forced forward by Erwin’s weight. He tries to think straight through the ache, reminding himself of the gravity of the situation.

“I’m—” he starts suddenly, right as Erwin bottoms out. “I—I am okay with this. I am.”

Erwin fixes the slipping dress. “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Levi snaps.

Unless he’s a medium communicating with the dead, Levi must be talking to himself. Erwin lets smoke swirl in his mouth as he analyses Levi’s consent. Consent not intended for Erwin’s peace of mind, but for Levi’s.

Erwin’s doubt only heightens. The most prominent reason for self-assurance is the removal of something precious—in this case, his virginity. His supposedly absent virginity. Erwin cannot accept the notion that Levi has been used previously. It’s simply not possible.

“You’re in no position to give me that sort of attitude.” Erwin lurches forward, pressing a forearm onto Levi’s spine until the smaller body gives out and sinks into the desk. Cloaking Levi, Erwin rests his cigar in a waiting ashtray. “I’m not in the mood to be gentle with you anymore.”

“Were you ever?” Levi mutters under his breath.

Heavy hands gouge into ivory arms, grasping their fucktoy. “Any more snide comments before I begin?”

Levi swallows thickly and takes a grounding breath. “None, Master.”

“Good answer.”

Erwin rolls back and snaps his hips in, shooting a rush through Levi’s body. The bottom buckles, clinging to the desktop with his forehead glued down and his teeth bared. His breaths are noisy but he keeps his vocal cords still.

Erwin develops a tempo. A slow one, to allow the rookie to get accustomed. He drags his length through the canal steadily, sensing every twitch and spasm inside Levi. It’s perfect: untarnished but accepting. It wants him no matter the discomfort it must undergo.

“I seem to have forgotten my irritation,” Erwin admits, dripping his words into Levi’s ear. “Your body is good at apologising for you.”

Levi’s eyes are slammed shut, forgetting the magnolia. Erwin allows it. “Glad you’re pleased,” he hisses in a strained voice.

“I’m falling in love with this demeanour, Levi. I want to see how long you can keep it up.” Erwin steps up his pace, sending shudder after shudder down his treasure’s spine. “Let’s test how resilient you truly are.”

“Try me.”

Erwin comes alive with that dare. Like a bloodthirsty carnivore, he lets a wicked grin flash across his lips as he straightens up, securing hands onto Levi’s hips. “Gladly.”

He makes his next thrust forceful, and the one after that. Levi lets half a groan slip out before he shuts up, gnawing into his lower lip. It’s intense for him, exactly as Erwin wants. He’ll go until Levi snaps.

The rhythm is fierce now, Erwin tearing into Levi without mercy. He plunges his full length in every time, then winds back until he’s about to exit. Then back in, and back out. Over and over and over, rocking Levi’s frame on the desk while the bottom winces and locks up his lungs. He breathes rarely, but quickly, fearing every exhale may turn into a whine.

Under the sound of skin slapping skin, Erwin huffs out quiet growls from the pleasure of Levi’s body. His ass is hugging him tightly, taking his cock exceptionally well. Erwin hasn’t felt a body this phenomenal in ages and he cherishes this meal. He brings his thighs closer to Levi’s, caging the snowy legs, before readjusting his angle and pounding in hard.

“Gh!” Levi grunts, bursting with unprecedented, painful pleasure. He cannot decide if this is enjoyable or not. “Hn—mm—” He stops his pathetic bile with his own hand clapped over his lips, shoving his whines back down his throat.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Ruthlessly, Erwin rips the tiny wrists away from Levi’s head and pins them against his spine, depriving his subject of such luxury. “I will hear you. You’re not allowed to muffle yourself.”

Levi’s expression is contorted with agony as he nails a temple to the mahogany. His body spasms around Erwin, his temperature elevating as sweat glistens on his back. “Sh-shit. Shit!”

“Again?” Erwin scolds. “How daft are you?”

Levi writhes, kicking toes into the floor and twisting his back underneath Erwin’s pin. He’ll spit up a genuine cry at any moment, failing to withstand the torture.

“I’m n-not—ah!” he whines, succumbing to Erwin’s power. “Not—ngh—daft! I’m not!”

“More.” Erwin squeezes Levi’s shaking ass and refuses to let his tempo slow. He’s not satiated yet.

“N-no—nh—” Levi holds his breath again, choking up his airway.

“I’m not stopping until you moan for me. Let it out.”

Erwin tucks an arm under the bend in Levi’s pelvis and hoists up his ass, situating his body for deeper penetration. Like a battering ram, he drives in, hitting a deep, sensitive spot inside.

Levi cries out, a heavenly sound to Erwin’s ears. Each subsequent thrust earns another breathy groan, completely unlocking Levi’s resistance.

“It—it’s deep. It’s—hah—so deep!”

“I know,” Erwin cruelly soothes, his voice soft in contrast to his action. “It’s good practice for you.”

“No—I don’t want—gh! Oh—hah!”

“What? You don’t want this?” Erwin frees his wrists to scoop an arm around his chest, lifting him from the desk and clutching him against his own body. Levi’s brought to his toes, teetering as Erwin pounds the daylights out of him. “You came to me asking for this, Levi. You know this is exactly what you want.”

Levi’s head is fixed to Erwin’s clavicle with a broad, firm hand, his jaw upturned so his moans can float right to Erwin’s ear. His breathing is hoarse and strained, crawling out of an elongated throat.

“It—it hurts—hurtssomuch—”

“No, it doesn’t. Embrace it, and it’ll feel better.” Erwin drops his head beside Levi’s, inhaling the faint smell of sweat and cheap soap. He hugs Levi until his ribs are crushed, his cock churning his insides simultaneously. “Don’t you want to work for me? Don’t you want my protection?”

“Y-yes,” Levi fires out. “I—nh—I do.”

“Take me, and I’ll accept you. Be a good boy and let me use you.” Erwin hovers his lips near Levi’s ear, his smoky breath ghosting across its shell. “Will you do that for me?”

Amongst the tremors and spasms wracking Levi’s body, a wave of frissons rushes along his skin. He nods in Erwin’s palm, his eyes screwed shut. “Yes, Master. Yes.”

“Good. That makes me very happy, Levi.”

Erwin fucks freely. He ravages Levi’s hole, demolishing any sliver of decency in his new candidate and submerging himself in the pleasure of this timid body. Levi’s whines are tiny and stuttered, spilled out of pure necessity rather than pleasure. He cannot take this treatment silently, and that pleases Erwin.

“You’ll make a perfect courtesan,” Erwin murmurs, his breaths ragged and hitched by his pace. “I’ll mould you. I’ll make you the best in my collection.”

“You’d—ah—better. You’d better.” Levi grips Erwin’s waist behind him, digging thumbs into his abdomen.

“I’ll make you mine first,” Erwin assures as he feels his body bloom, creeping closer to orgasm. “My seed will fill you before anyone else’s.”

“I’ve—ngh—been filled before—I have!”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying.” To stop his lies, Erwin plants a hand against his navel and pounds so rapidly Levi goes delirious, a slurry of incoherent words and groans dribbling out of his agape lips.

Erwin peaks with a gruff, “There. Take me.” while he pumps his spurting shaft into Levi, coating his canal with every drop of semen he can milk out of himself. Levi shrivels up as he feels the fluid inside him, stunned by the sensation.

Erwin slows, gently gyrating until he’s descended from his high. His strength wanes and he loosens his grip on Levi, guiding the exhausted fucktoy back to his heels.

A grunt shoots out of Levi’s lungs as he collapses against the desk, and on instinct, a hand flies back to throw the dress’s hem over the ass Erwin has abandoned. It’s like he’s trained to keep his decency intact.

Erwin sighs to himself as he wipes his cock down with a procured handkerchief before tucking it back into his trousers. His candidate is splayed across his desk, thighs twitching and chest heaving. It’s not what he expected to see when he entered his office this morning, but a sight like this ought to be commonplace by now.

But this one is special. That body is so flawless it’s ethereal, and Erwin has already committed to claiming it as his own. He’s put his seed in it, and now he’ll add it to his roster and groom it to be his best courtesan. His most obedient pet.

He mentally thanks Levi for appearing in his life. Never has such a beautiful opportunity been presented to Erwin, and he intends to make full use of it.

“Levi,” Erwin calls, snapping Levi out of his slump.

Hands plant themselves on the mahogany to upraise a torso slicked with sweat, but still brimming with strength. He might genuinely have good stamina after all. “What?” the black cat hisses.

“You’re done here. Get out of my office and head to the staircase at the north end. Go to the second floor.”

Levi lumbers around to face Erwin, balancing himself on shaking legs. “What?”

“Staircase. Second floor. There’s a washroom past the rear door. Go get cleaned up. I’ll have one of my men fetch you in ten minutes.”

“I—wait, am I—”

“Go. I have work to do.” Erwin returns to his seat, back to work as though he hasn’t just demolished a virtual stranger. “It’s not my job to hold your hand every step of the way.”

Stunned, Levi backpedals unsteadily to the door, feeling the squelch of dribbling semen between his thighs. “Fine,” he whispers, clutching the door handle.

Erwin takes up another letter and slices through its seal.

“…Thank you,” Levi adds reluctantly.

Chapter Text

Levi slumps against the door to Erwin’s office, recuperating his pummeled body. There’s an ache in his hips and a whirlpool in his gut, the results of his brutal introduction to the Magnolia House.

It will be worth it, he tells himself. Anything is worth getting off those wicked streets.

He’s back in the main area now, an enormous room he had only glanced at during his beeline to the office. It’s an eloquent space, dressed up in exquisite decor that must’ve been funded by the House’s astonishing income.

The main space is octagonal and perhaps the size of a small ballroom. The door to Erwin’s office claims one panel of the octagon and similar doors line another four of the eight walls. The south side opens to the House’s entrance and the north side holds the staircase.

In the centre of the congruent area, opaque dividing screens section off a small circular lounge, the Iris of the House. Levi hasn’t seen the details of that sitting space, but the sound of murmured conversation on the other side of the screens discourages him from exploring. He does not want to meet anyone else after his hellish orientation.

He hides the limp in his gait as he hugs the outer wall, sneaking to the staircase while taking in his surroundings. Golden chandeliers cast yellow light upon brass plaques fused to each door, illuminating engraved symbols that Levi cannot interpret the meaning of. Carpet softens his footfalls and soothes his naked feet, his toes disappearing into fuzzy threads. This place, as far as he can tell, is a gorgeous palace too splendid for the city it resides in. It magnificently lives up to its reputation.

He ascends the thin flight of stairs, surpassing the high ceilings of the main floor and reaching the first story. The wood erodes as he rises, less care allotted to the higher storeys. The ornamentation that flooded the main atrium thins out, chandeliers replaced by smeared lamps and carpet overrun by creaking timber.

The first floor has a shorter ceiling than the main floor, though it’s given its full floor space instead of being gutted into a ring shape. Simple chairs surround simple round tables, about four occupying the area. A large sliver of the space against the back wall is carved out, separated by a timber wall with a single door.

There are two men at one of the tables, engaged in conversation. Like an anxious cat, Levi darts further up the staircase before they notice him.

The second floor may have an octagonal shape like the two below it, but it’s hard to tell with the walls slicing through its insides. Levi enters a short, wide hallway, a door on either wall and a third at the back. It’s drab, far less glamorous than the atrium he started in. Wherever he is, it’s not meant for the clients to witness or enjoy.

He’s too tense to snoop. Saving his curiosity for later, he treads towards the rear door.

But the door on his right creaks open, and out slips a new face. Levi stops, holding his dress down and making frozen eye contact with the stranger who’s caught him.

Thick, short brunet curls hug a round, dolled-up face, complementing the emerald eyes that widen at Levi’s appearance. Painted lips part, revealing a glimpse of whitened teeth.

“Oh, my,” the stranger giggles, whimsically pleased with the new feast that’s stumbled into their lair. “Now how did you know I enjoy the mischievous type?”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You’re a rascal, I’ll give you that.” They slink closer, their stride rehearsed to seductive perfection. “Sneaking around upstairs like this? We just met and I already know you love to stir trouble.” Touchy hands drift onto Levi’s shoulders, brave fingers pinching and adjusting his dress’s straps. “That’s perfect, since I’m a troublemaker too. Did you come looking for me?”

Levi stiffens at the unwarranted touch of yet another stranger. “The hell are you talking about?”

“No need to worry, sir!” The employee circles him, executing a routine of rubbing his shoulders and teasing his waist with no care for consent nor personal space. “I love new clients more than anyone here. We’ll definitely have some fun together.” A chin perches on Levi’s shoulders, mascara-lined eyes peering up at him. “My name’s Jules. What can I call you?”

“Get off,” Levi snarls, trying to shrug the leech off.

“Curious name, but I like your style, Getoff. Shall we head downstairs—”

“That’s not what I meant, prick.” Levi leaps away, maintaining a cautious distance. “You’re confused. I’m not a fucking client.”

“Huh?” The courtesan’s head cocks. “Who comes into the Magnolia House besides clients?”

Lacking any other answer, Levi gives his recent position. “I work here.”

The stranger simpers, tickled by Levi’s excuse. “I think I know who my coworkers are. Your face, unfortunately, isn’t one of them.”

“Well, I am now. I just spoke with Erwin.”

Jules fully laughs, expelling a chuckle that thoroughly saturates the air. “And you’re still calling him Erwin?”

Levi rolls his eyes. “The Master. Whatever. I spoke with him.”

“Oh, god.” Jules shakes their head, grinning. “There is no way he accepted you! What trick did you pull?”

“None. Get off my damn case.”

“It’s going to be a rough start for you, I can tell.”

“No, it’s not,” Levi rebukes. “Just move on. I’m headed to the washroom.”

“Sent to clean out his juices, right?”

Levi clenches his teeth, a cherry tint warming his cheeks.

“Yep. I’m right.” Jules is eating up Levi’s temerity, clearly a veteran entertained by the bumbling newbie. “Don’t worry, we all went through it.”

“Fuck,” Levi curses, repulsed. “All the courtesans?”

“Yeah. A merchant’s gotta test a product before—”

“—they sell it. I know.” Levi throws his eyes elsewhere, simmering on this revelation. Contrary to a tiny voice in his head, Erwin has found pleasure in every single subordinate of his. Levi smothers the question of if he were unique in that regard—he’s clearly no more special than anyone else. “Whatever. Just…scram. Leave me alone.”

“Fella, you’d better lose that attitude,” Jules chuckles as they nevertheless make their way to the staircase. “Nobody is ever alone here, for better or worse.”

“Screw off.”

“Good luck!”

Levi’s silent as Jules bounds down the steps and out of sight. If all the courtesans are going to be jubilant little shits, he’s not going to survive more than a day. The streets might be calling his name sooner than expected.

The washroom is decent, though it’s inundated with smells of colognes and perfumes and soaps that coalesce into a suffocating stench. Levi thins his breathing as he enters, feeling a block of humidity kiss his face. Several wash basins and sinks line the rear wall, situated beneath a wide mirror that greets Levi with his reflection. He ignores it and looks to the left, where a sagging curtain clings to its ceiling railing and barely hides the bathing area beyond. To his right is what he presumes to be the toilet room.

Peeling back the slimy curtain, Levi’s stomach sinks at the sight of four oak bathtubs in a row, not a single wall separating one from the other. There’s several smaller hip baths, too, just as freestanding as their siblings. Absolutely no privacy. The most he’ll get is when he’s taking a shit.

Perhaps there are private quarters. Keeping his hopes up, Levi puts his mind to cleansing himself of his interview.

His dress is draped over a sink basin crusted with grout, then he pulls the curtain open as much as it can cover and starts up the furthest bathtub faucet. It sputters out thick, grainy water, at first shockingly cold but crawling to a tolerable temperature. Levi steps into the freezing puddle, satisfied despite the chill. It’s not as pleasant as the bathhouses he’s snuck into, but it’s his to use freely, and that feeling alone is better than the heat of a stolen bath.

The tubs’ shelves hold various shampoos and soaps, though he doesn’t touch a single one. He doesn’t know who on earth uses these, nor where they’ve been. It’s likely more sanitary to go without.

When he gets a salary, he’ll buy his own supplies. Something cleansing with a gentle fragrance to truly rid him of the icky outcome of his work.

He sinks into the filling water and feels his ass, remembering Erwin’s possessive grip on his muscle. Wincing, he pulls his cheek apart and lets the water flush out his crevice, washing the dried semen from his hole. He can’t bring himself to physically clean out his asshole—he’s too unfamiliar with the area.

Any of Erwin’s seed that made it into Levi is permitted to stay there as Levi moves on to his thighs, rubbing their backsides to scuff off the cemented fluid. He scrubs his feet, too, then scours his own palms to clean his makeshift washcloth. He needs a salary soon. He needs cleaning supplies soon.

On the other side of the curtain, light splashes across the tiles as the door opens. Levi hugs his arms and glances over his shoulder, trying to listen over the sound of the running water.

“Levi,” the newcomer calls in an unrecognisable voice.

Levi’s silent.

The curtain is drawn back without hesitation, freeing light to attack Levi’s naked body. “Do you mind?” he seethes as he cringes away from his unwanted spectator.

“It’s good to meet you, Levi.” The man is tall, just a hair taller than Erwin, and constructed of muscle that adds to his imposing height. There’s not a hair on his dark head, all of it migrated to his full, groomed beard. “My name is Titus.”

“Okay. Get out.”

“Here.” Titus extends a large bath towel, tempting Levi with the clean fabric. “Come dry off.”

Levi huffs, already detesting the reality of Jules’ words. Never a moment of privacy—every action scripted for him.

“Then what happens?” Levi asks as he twists shut the faucet stream. “You’ll fuck me next?”

“Then you’ll meet the others. The Master insisted everyone gather for dinner tonight.”

“Do you all really call him that?”

“Of course.” Titus steps closer, looming over the bather. “That is his title.” He offers the towel again and has it snatched from his grasp. “You called him that too, didn’t you?”

“Kind of.” Levi rises and wraps up his nudity, soothed by the warm plush of the towel. Without shame clouding his thoughts, he again looks over the new face. “You a courtesan here?”

“Yes. I’ve been here for about three years.”

“Did Erwin fuck you, too?”

“Yes.”

Levi’s brow furrows. “I don’t know his type, but you look nothing like what it might be.”

“Perhaps not. Regardless, it’s customary for new recruits. I just followed the custom.”

“Shitty custom,” Levi mutters.

“Come along.” Titus turns his back on the shrivelled animal, taking his old dress from the basin. “The others are waiting.”

“Hey.” Levi drains the bathtub while fastening the towel around his chest. “I need that.”

Titus shakes his head. “The Master will give you what you need. Everything else is a privilege you will earn.”

“You sound fucking brainwashed, you know that?”

Titus leaves, secure in the knowledge that Levi will follow.

He does.

Water drips from Levi’s hair and leaves a trail as he creeps behind Titus, exiting the washroom and crossing to the staircase. They descend one floor together, returning to the sparse common area.

Levi shrivels at the sight of multiple unfamiliar faces, all engrossed in banter or wandering the room. There’s a little less than a dozen masculine bodies in varying levels of decency, each content and cheerful in the presence of their comrades.

“Gentlemen,” Titus calls, tempering the volume in the air. Mouths close and heads turn to examine the new body. “The Master will be here soon. In the meantime, please introduce yourself to Levi. He’s joining the House.”

Levi does not want to listen to a single one of these fuckers speak. They’re too happy for him. Too comfortable in their lifestyle and giddy about ruining human dignity. He doesn’t understand how they can be so blithe.

He has no room to judge, and he realises that. Mere minutes ago, he sacrificed his body to live here just as everyone else did. Still, he hated it. He did what he had to do, whereas these courtesans seem to thrive on that indignance. Not one shares his sense of shame and he hates being the outlier.

“Levi!” one anonymous face hollers. “What a bloody good name! Are you Hebrew?”

Levi inches back, having half the mind to hide behind Titus. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What’s your surname?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats.

“What? How can you—”

“Back off, Quincy. He’s fine as he is.” The peacekeeper who speaks up is the closest to Levi, seated with an arm thrown over the backrest and legs splayed proudly. His body is a canvas of ink and metal freckles, a shocking display of what the human body can take. Tattoos wrap up his chest and arms, depictions of ships and creatures and nearly any image the mind can conjure. Piercing seems like a casual hobby for this body, as every spot from its navel to its ears to its tongue has been embellished with tiny steel spheres lanced into its skin. He’s proud of his modifications, wearing nothing but an open vest and loose trousers to show as much as possible. “Welcome, Levi. I’m Kirk.”

Levi just clutches his towel and hardens his expression. He didn’t think these courtesans could get any stranger than Jules, but this enigma wins the grand prize of eccentricity.

“Believe it or not, that’s not a performance Levi’s putting on.” Beside Kirk, Jules dangles their feet from their perch on the table. “He doesn’t even need to act shy—he just is.”

“Shut it,” Levi grumbles, vexed by the chattering rat.

“That’s good,” Kirk responds. “You’ll be a good submissive—wait, you are submissive, right?”

Levi doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s never considered the notion beyond fleeting daydreams that were doused by the plight of survival. His fantasies never had time to develop, nor his preferences. Pure desperation drove him here, and he’s jumped right in without a plan.

“I don’t know,” he nearly whispers.

The room grows silent with that answer. It drops a sinking anchor in Levi’s stomach, punishing him for giving a poor response.

“Probably submissive,” he weakly adds, subsequently cursing himself for thinking he could repair the damage done.

“Um,” the first face speaks up, Quincy. “Are you even old enough to be here?”

Levi scoffs, finding his face solely to glare at it. “Fuck you—”

“Yes, he is.” Finally, a voice that’s been cemented in Levi’s mind sounds out from behind him. It’s Erwin, having arrived to address his subordinates. “Be kind to him.”

“Good evening, Master!” Jules greets, similar sentiments echoing through the hall.

“Evening, everyone.” Erwin completes a brief headcount, ending his tally with Levi. He shifts his eyes up to Titus, who still flanks Levi like a silent bodyguard. “Titus, I gave you clear instructions, did I not?”

“Ah, you did.” Reminded, Titus brings his hands to Levi’s back. “I apologise. I think I pity him.”

Levi recoils when his towel is tugged at, resisting Titus’ thieving hands. “Hey—quit!”

He doesn’t win against Titus, rage melting into embarrassment as he’s stripped of his only covering. “Give—give it back. You piece of shit—”

He can’t keep bitching, not with dozens of eyes on his nude form. Hugging himself, he turns a shoulder to the group and glowers at his unwanted audience. “You’re all fucked up. So fucked up. Give me some damn clothes.”

Kirk raises an eyebrow. “So, you want us to be kind to that, Master?”

“Give him time. He’ll come around.” Erwin shoves a hand into the rear of Levi’s skull, twisting fingers into his black locks.

“Hey—stop—”

Levi’s pushed forward, guided by Erwin to a seat at Kirk’s table. He’s thrown into an empty seat and tucked in, something he allows since it hides his manhood. With taut posture and clenched fists, he stares at the blank centre of the table.

Erwin dips his head beside Levi, scanning the faces he refuses to look at. “Make some connections, Levi. It’ll be good for you.”

“Give me clothes,” Levi demands through gritted teeth.

“Obey, and I’ll consider it.” Erwin rubs his nape, showing off how freely he can tease his newest body. “Until then, you’ll be the lewdest courtesan here. If you’re sweet to your mates, they might give you a blanket to get through the night.” With a telling glance at his subordinates, he rises. “That’s their decision, though. I won’t insist one way or the other.”

Levi’s surrounded by Erwin’s puppets. He fears every gleeful, satisfied face, seeing a bully in each one. Nobody will be on his side.

“Fine,” he rasps, his fingernails digging into his palms.

“Good.” Erwin steps away, slowly making his exit. “I’m returning home for the evening. Quincy, Russell—you two are cleaning the rooms first thing tomorrow morning. All four must be done up.”

“Understood, Master.”

“Jules, I expect your monetary tips in my office before I arrive.”

“Absolutely, Master!”

“Titus. The same as always. I don’t want a single one of my subordinates sleeping in.”

“I won’t let you down, Master.”

“Thank you. Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Master.”

“Night, Master!”

“Get home safe, Master.”

Erwin’s gone, isolating Levi with his henchmen. The attention in the room shifts back to him, highlighting his ridiculous temerity.

He shoots glances around the room, suspicious of every face. “What?” he spits.

“Nothing,” Kirk responds. “Sorry, Levi. We’re interested in what the newbie has to say.”

“I have nothing to say.” Levi’s ass aches against the hard wooden seat. He shifts, searching for a preferable position.

“But if you say something cool, I’ll give you my blanket.” Jules grins, flashing their full set of teeth.

“I’m not going to grovel.”

“Why?” Kirk asks. “Because it’s embarrassing?”

“I’m not fucking embarrassed,” Levi lies. “I just have dignity. You—you fuckers don’t know what that is.”

Titus passes the table, headed to the rear door. “Don’t misinterpret. We have dignity here.”

“That’s such bullshit.” Levi folds his arms, keeping his body tiny. “This is a brothel, for pity’s sake.”

“What of it?” Kirk challenges. “Are we wrong for stripping and giving our bodies away daily?”

“Obviously.” Levi finds a rival in Kirk, a threat. “It’s shameless. You kiss Erwin’s ass and throw yourself at clients for money. That blondie has you all wrapped around his finger.”

“Well, he gives us blankets,” Jules mentions.

Levi’s eyes slide over to the rat. “What?”

“He gives us blankets. And food. A bath. Beds. All of that.” Jules counts their blessings on their fingers, grinning at each one. “You can’t deny that. It’s why you came here, isn’t it?”

Levi’s lips form a thin line, wordless against Jules’ argument. Those benefits are exactly Levi’s motivations for finding the Magnolia House. Nobody treats his boys better than Master Erwin does.

This rumour had spread through the streets Levi frequented, and he found himself listening closer each time. Warmth. Food. Protection. These vital boons were promised to the workers of the Magnolia House in exchange for their services. Services that repulsed Levi, but were rather docile compared to the horrors he kept living through.

Levi doesn’t have a clear ethical hierarchy, but he’s aware that he’s violated most of the tiers in his short life. The unforgiving streets demanded it.

Then, they grew even tougher. It exhausted Levi, destroyed him. He could survive, but barely. He felt no point in living if it was off spoiled scraps and blood-stained hands.

He promised himself he’d try the rumoured House, and if that failed, he was done. Maybe the afterlife would treat him better.

Even as he sits here, the latter option hasn’t faded. This humiliation is as cruel as the streets, softened only by the promise of food and warmth. Levi wonders if it’s worth it.

“You with us, Levi?”

“Quiet.” Levi drops his head, avoiding Jules’ eyes. He hates this spotlight. He hates being nude and gawked at after having his insides shredded and his decency crushed. Is it really better?

“Supper,” Titus announces as he and another worker carry out steaming platters, individual plates filled with hot food. Levi’s stomach flips at the aroma, screaming to be filled.

And when one glorious plate is set before him, he momentarily forgets any reason for shame. It’s nothing spectacular, just steamed vegetables and thin slices of pork, but it’s the most precious meal Levi has seen in years. A soft, “Oh,” escapes him as he savours the sight, and within an instant, he’s pinching one of the meat slices.

“Hold on.” Kirk puts a hand on Levi’s, preventing him from feasting.

“No.” Levi tugs, his anger rapidly ballooning. “You will not starve me—”

“No, I won’t,” Kirk promises. “Just take a moment. Who do we have to thank for this food?”

Levi purses his lips, staring at the sustenance. “You’ve made your point,” he grumbles, scratching the meat with his fingertip. “Let me eat.”

Kirk frees him and in the next second he’s shoved the warm slice past his teeth. He bites off a morsel and chews, letting the warmth and the flood of flavours soak his mouth. He’s obsessed, unable to withhold the urge to gorge himself. Another bite is taken, and another.

The room is silent except for him but he doesn’t notice until he’s finished his first delicious slice. He pinches a potato cube before noticing how still it is.

“What?” he snaps. “Stop gawking like that.”

“Good food, isn’t it?”

“Shut up. Quit taunting me.” Levi keeps eating.

He’s somewhat left alone, somewhat spectated throughout dinner. Conversations start up around him, the hall returning to a moderate volume that finally hides Levi within it.

Courtesans shuffle out as they finish, off to complete other chores or get ready for bed. It’s just past midnight when Levi clears his plate, deep in the night for common civilians but quite normal for his lifestyle.

“Curfew’s at one in the morning,” Kirk informs as he takes Levi’s plate. “Wake-up at nine. Unless you’ve got a special appointment between those hours, you can’t leave the second story.”

“Whatever.” Levi nibbles his thumb, savouring the last taste of potato grease.

“The Master will tell you the rest of the rules tomorrow. You’ll be in the quarters on the right, underneath Jules.”

“Awesome!” Jules cheers, leaping off the table. “I’ll go put a mattress on it.”

Levi sighs, clutching his hand in his lap. The food is good, at least. His bed will be comfortable tonight. The scales of sacrifice versus reward are shifting out of imbalance ever so slightly.

He soon joins the migration to the second floor, herded into one of the two quarters along with his new roommates.

Of course, no privacy here. He’s an idiot for thinking he’d be that lucky. There are three bunked beds to hold six bodies, each flanked by bedside tables. On either side of the entry door, enormous vanities stand. Their surfaces are covered with makeup products, hairbrushes, and trinkets, a cesspool of belongings with no organisation.

“Levi! Take a look!” From the leftmost bunk, Jules calls out to their new bunkmate. They’re sitting proudly on the upper bed and gesturing to the vacant one beneath them.

His bed is merely a mattress and a pillow, barer than its siblings. He drifts to it, scrutinising every detail, and curls his fingertips under the upper bed frame.

Dust falls. “For pity’s sake,” he mutters under his breath.

Kirk enters in nothing but drawers and claims his place on the lower bunk closest to Levi. He has white sheets and a wide comforter for himself, as most of the beds do.

“Where are my sheets?” Levi asks, jealous.

“You’ll probably get sheets tomorrow,” Kirk answers as he slips under the covers. “The Master doesn’t want you to have them tonight.”

“The damn Master can suck my dick.” Levi gets into bed, deciding against protesting further.

“That’d be a good trick if you can get him to do it,” Jules chuckles.

Others enter the quarters, but Levi’s already turned his back and buried his head in the pillow. He just wants the day to end.

The lights are soon snuffed and whispered conversations fizzle out as they drift off to sleep. It’s quiet except for the occasional creak of wood as someone shifts.

Time passes and Levi can’t sleep a wink. He’s never been able to get a full night’s rest, but now it’s worsened by the new setting and the chill.

The streets are cold, too, but he’s good at finding a blacksmith or bakery to slip into for some temporary warmth. Even if his only option was an alley, he still had clothes and perhaps a stolen blanket to survive.

It’s late, already deep in the hours of early morning. Levi clings to his pillow and shivers, his body curled into a ball. It’s cold. He can’t sleep. He’s losing the wonder of the protection and sustenance this haven offered.

“Hey,” a voice whispers, a brunet head popping down from its nest.

“Leave me alone.”

“You’re shaking the bed.”

“Barely,” Levi scoffs, tensing his muscles to hold still. “Give me a blanket or get over it.”

“Well, I won’t give you a blanket. Sorry.” Jules scans their bunkmate’s form, squinting at it in the moonlight. “But hazing is just part of initiation. It’s not too bad.”

“It’s horrible. I came here to survive, not to be a fucking joke for all of you.”

“You’re not a joke, Levi.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Really, do you think any of us care about seeing a naked body? It happens every day for us.”

Levi glares at the wall silently.

“We might poke fun, but we don’t mean it. We know what it’s like to be in your position. We were all a little shy at one point.”

“Knock it off.”

“But you’re safe here. The Master will show you the ropes and you’ve got almost a dozen siblings that have your back. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Sure,” Jules acquiesces, indifferent to Levi’s bitter edge. “Have a good night, Levi. Welcome to the Magnolia House.”

Levi waits out the rest of the gruelling night in that position. Dreary hours pass sluggishly. He doesn’t move and his only form of entertainment is watching the progress of the sunrise as it sneaks into his new bedroom.

Eventually, bodies rise from their beds, whispering good morning’s to each other and lumbering around the room. Levi listens, learning the gait of each pair of feet and connecting a voice to it. Some leave the room while others sit at the vanities. One comes up to Levi.

“It’s time to get up,” Kirk’s voice calls. “The Master wants you in the lounge in five minutes.”

“Why?” Levi lifts himself onto an elbow and glances over his shoulder.

“Just do as he says.” Kirk’s already dressed, if one can call his scant clothing a sufficient outfit. “And don’t take our clothes. Sorry, but we’ll report you if we see you dressed without permission.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “You just haven’t shamed me enough, have you?”

“Don’t be late for the Master,” Kirk says before carrying on.

Levi’s not prompt about getting out of bed, lazily listening to the sounds of other courtesans preparing for the day. He’s tired, but he’s grown accustomed to the feeling of daily fatigue. It’s just different in this environment.

He sits up once most of the men have left the room. Just Jules remains, setting up makeup products at the vanity.

“Morning, Levi!” Jules waves with a powder brush between their fingers.

Levi doesn’t reply. He slips out of bed, his bare feet pressing into the sprawling area rug. His whole body feels smaller, wilted, and his uncovered skin is still painted with goosebumps. He’d cup a hand over his flaccid cock, but that feels stupider than just letting it hang. Instead, he hugs himself and creeps out of the room.

Faces without names smile at him in the hallway. “Hey, Levi. Good morning.”

“Levi, the name’s Earl. I didn’t really introduce myself last night.”

“First day in the House, Levi! You excited?”

They’re so kind it sickens him. They smile and wave and encourage him all while he clings to his naked body. His nudity isn’t acknowledged with so much as a glance at his exposed anatomy. They genuinely have no regard for decency.

Some men have their bodies wrapped up in flowy dresses, others in prim suits, others in just drawers. The fabrics they wear are expensive and meticulously chosen, suited exactly to their body and perhaps the needs of their clients.

Levi mentally rebukes their flippancy. They prance around in clownish, skimpy clothes, off to sell their bodies as if it were merely a hobby.

How they do it is beyond Levi. How they lack a shred of self-deprecation or shame just startles the newcomer.

Levi washes his face and finger combs his hair in the washroom, inspecting his appearance. There seems to be a permanent blush on his cheeks and the bags under his eyes have grown heavier overnight. Otherwise, he looks no different than usual. Weary. Dull. Irritated.

He’s amazed Erwin accepted such a personality. He stooped to a lower level yesterday, but not as low as he had anticipated. Erwin wants his demeanour.

Levi didn’t think the same personality developed by and used against street urchins would serve a purpose in this fluffy sanctuary. To his benefit, the Master took a wicked interest in that fierce, almost boyish stubbornness.

Forgetting the time, Levi creeps down a floor to find plates littered with breakfast options, some men eating and others just passing through. He takes a warm ciabatta roll when it’s offered to him, and he even indulges himself by drizzling it in oil at the suggestion of a housemate. It’s simple, but good. The water he’s given is clean and cool, the freshest he’s tasted in a good while.

Gently reminded of the benefits of being here, he remembers the torture that pays the price for this luxury. He’s fed, but he will be humiliated and corrupted in return. The give-and-take doesn’t feel completely just, but he allows the House a little more time to prove itself as worthy of owning his dignity.

To start, he needs to attempt to somewhat live his new lifestyle. Following the Master’s orders in the first step in that endeavour.

Alas, coming down to the main floor presents Levi with a fresh resurrection of yesterday’s terror. He scans the main atrium, finding a cast of strangers and courtesans dotting the space. Some walk in pairs, a courtesan flirting with a client as they make their way to a private room. Some clients simply mill about, making small talk with each other or idly people-watching against the wall.

Many gravitate to the Iris Lounge, chattering and pointing out passing courtesans with lustful eyes. Cigars are passed around and trivial prattling fills the space. From the staircase, Levi sees into the hive of activity and freezes in his tracks.

So many eyes. Too many. Plenty of strangers. All glance at him, some linger longer than he wants. He wishes they wouldn’t look at all. Why must he be the only naked one right now? Why didn’t Erwin come to him, up in the pseudo-privacy of the quarters?

From within the lounge, the blond Master spots his newest pet. He rises, dismisses himself from a conversation, and makes his way to Levi.

“Good morning, Levi.” Erwin puts a hand on Levi’s shoulder, feeling the chill of his skin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Why?” Levi starts, his gaze stuck on every passerby. “Why did you make me do this? Give me clothes—I don’t want all of them to see me. This is—”

“You must adjust to the feeling. I won’t give you clothes right now.”

“No,” Levi protests. “This is stupid. I’ll work to please clients, but being fucking paraded around is horrible.”

“It’s part of the work. Adjust.”

“I shouldn’t have to. You’ve done nothing but harass and humiliate me since—”

“The fault is mine?” Erwin fiercely pinches Levi’s ear, pulling the cat up to his toes. “Are you that blind to your own actions?”

“Let go of me—”

“Think, Levi. Reflect on the past few hours. What exactly have you done to demonstrate you deserve decency?” Erwin holds Levi by his chin and ear, making sure the shorter man has no chance of standing comfortably.

“I—I—”

“You swear. You disobey me. You lash out at the other gentlemen. You’re late. Do you truly think I want to reward privileges to a personality as discourteous as yours?”

Levi writhes in his grasp, his cock swaying as his toes stab into the floor. More spectators are giving him attention now, amused by the show. “Let go—please—”

“Answer me, Levi,” Erwin booms for the whole room to hear.

Levi winces, his brain rattling in the wake of Erwin’s order. He’s cemented himself as the centre of attention, no chance to go unnoticed now. Tugging at Erwin’s hands, he surrenders.

“…No.”

“No, what?”

“No, Master.”

Erwin’s not done. He stretches the shell of Levi’s ear, holding it taut so he can speak into it. “I reward privileges to good boys. Will you be a good boy for me, Levi?”

Levi’s face is hot, flushed redder than ever before. With his body turned to liquid, he squeezes Erwin’s wrist for stability instead of retaliation.

“I will, Master,” he squeaks out.

“You’ll what?”

Levi shuts his eyes to block out the sight of his audience. “I’ll be a good boy for you, Master.”

“Prove it.” Erwin drops him, letting him find his feet and put a hand over his crimson face. “Go to the Iris Lounge and take the bouquet off the centrepiece. Now.”

Levi flings himself forward and into the lounge, his mind dizzy with shame. The lounge is depressed into the floor like a conversation pit, a circle hollowed out and lined with plush couches. There are a few eloquent chairs with their backs to the tiny stage in the centre. It has a diameter shorter than Levi’s height and currently holds an enormous vase brimming with magnolia flowers. Perhaps a dozen folks are in here, a mixture of courtesans and customers. They’re all drawn to the naked idiot who’s just stumbled inside.

He ignores all of them and throws arms around the vase, focused on following orders and nothing more. It’s heavy, but he manages easily, shimmying it off its stage and squatting to set it on the ground.

Erwin finally reenters the lounge, nodding to the others present. “Gentlemen,” he begins. “This is our latest courtesan, Levi. Please treat him well.”

“He’s always got that blush on his cheeks,” a courtesan gossips to his client in between pecks on the aristocrat’s neck. “And with his attitude, it probably won’t be long before his other set of cheeks is the same colour.”

Levi bites back a scoff, dropping his burning head.

“Be polite, Chester,” Erwin gently scolds. “Levi, kneel on the stage. Face south.”

Levi complies, throwing in a tiny, “Yes, Master,” as he clambers onto the stage. He expertly avoids eye contact with anyone and sets his gaze forward, looking through the lounge’s other entrance and down the distant entrance hall. He even cleans up his posture, heeding Erwin’s advice from yesterday.

“Gentlemen,” Erwin starts again, like a ringmaster addressing an audience. “He’s still in the middle of initiation. Do you mind if I work with him out here?”

“Not at all,” a hefty customer chuckles.

“Wonderful.” Erwin drifts into Levi’s vision, inspecting him from head to toe. “That’s good posture, Levi. You’re learning.”

Levi stares straight ahead.

“Say thank you,” Chester encourages.

Erwin has actually paused, implying that Chester’s suggestion should be executed.

“Thank you, Master,” Levi utters.

“You’re quite welcome.” Erwin puts a hand on Levi’s head, feeling the volume of his hair. “We have a few rules in the House. Some for our courtesans and some for our clients. I’d like to go over them with you.”

Levi tries to anticipate a confirmation, even if the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. “Certainly, Master.”

“I want you to repeat after me.” Erwin draws a lock of hair away from Levi’s eyes. “One. Courtesans may not leave the Magnolia House without permission.”

It’s a prison. That’s Levi’s instinctive reaction to such a rule. He’s accidentally locked himself in a prison.

“One. Courtesans may not leave the Magnolia House without permission,” he repeats anyway.

“Two. Courtesans may not access the supplies of the Magnolia House without permission.”

Levi repeats the words, annoyed with how vague the rules are. There’s plenty of room for misinterpretation in them.

“Three. Courtesans may not leave the second story between one in the morning and nine without permission.”

As he echoes Erwin, he wonders how Erwin punishes behaviour he’s not around to witness. Does he solely rely on his subordinates to snitch on each other?

“Four. Courtesans may not use profanity or demonstrate improper etiquette. Courtesy and good manners are mandatory for employees.”

Fuck that rule, Levi thinks as he recites it back.

“Five. Courtesans may not have intercourse with clients without payment.”

“Though,” Chester murmurs to his partner. “Sometimes I really wish we could.”

Clearly a flirtatious attempt to send blood flowing through the human piggy bank. Levi sternly repeats the rule.

“Six. The Master’s command is absolute.”

Those words send a shudder down Levi’s spine. Erwin holds all the power in this haven and he’s proven how careful he is with maintaining it. Rules, curfews, titles—nothing is done to set him and his subordinates on the same level. Living here means submitting to Erwin above all else.

“Six,” Levi says. “The Master’s command is absolute.”

“Beautiful,” Erwin praises, stroking a thumb over Levi’s cheekbone. “Remember those rules and the order of them. Obey, and you’ll be rewarded.”

“Yes, Master.” Levi feels himself sink into the role. He’s slipping.

Erwin mentally stumbles, too, those murmured words sparking electricity in his chest. He thought he had grown tired of hearing that routine statement, but they’re remarkably fresh in Levi’s voice. “For now, I want you to remain here. Get accustomed to the House and its occupants. To your nudity. You won’t accomplish anything as a courtesan if you stay afraid of indecency.”

“I’m supposed to just sit here?” The multitude of eyes have already scorched his skin. He’ll burn to ash if he stays in their scope any longer.

“That’s right. Gentlemen,” Erwin calls to the group. “You’re free to speak with Levi, but do not touch him. I would like him to get acclimated slowly. Titus, if anyone is discourteous, please see them out.”

“Understood, Master.”

“I’m not going to sit here,” Levi gnarls.

Erwin passes by the fidgeting child. “And if Levi leaves his post, put him right back. Only you have permission to handle him.”

Titus takes a seat on a couch to dutifully watch the statue. “Understood.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Erwin leaves, stripping his newest employee of his presence and leaving him under the searing gazes of hungry clients and amused courtesans.

“Dammit,” Levi whispers, his eyes flitting from the entry, to Titus, to his audience. This is even worse than last night.

“Just relax,” Chester coos, using Levi as entertainment while he kneads thumbs into the palm of a lust-stricken client. “It’s prettier to have a boy up there than a bouquet. You look great.”

“Be quiet.”

“Be careful with that attitude,” Titus warns. “The Master won’t tolerate it for much longer.”

“So, Levi,” the client with Chester speaks up. “You’re the disobedient type, hm?”

Levi barely sees the man out of the corner of his eye, Chester loyally glued to him. Silence is his preference, especially when Master Erwin isn’t around to tell him what to do.

But courtesans get money through their appointments. They’re paid by their success rate, and ignoring every possible client is a horrible way to draw in customers.

Levi understands what’s expected. He has to put in a little effort here instead of assuming he’ll get fucked and get paid.

“I suppose so,” Levi answers, his voice dull.

“Does the Master punish your little attitude?”

“Yes, he does.” Levi hates admitting as much.

“How?”

Puzzle pieces are quickly combined in Levi’s head to form a proper response. “I slept without sheets or blankets last night. I haven’t been given clothes since I was accepted.”

“You poor thing,” the client chuckles. “Stuck with your prick swinging around while everyone else picks their outfit for the day?”

Levi wants to answer with a simple yes, but that’s not enticing at all. He must present himself as the character this man wants to see: the bashful newbie who’s been set apart from his siblings.

“They said they’d tell the Master if I were caught putting clothes on.”

Chester laughs, happy to join the ridicule. “You should’ve seen how scared he was when he had his towel taken away last night. He couldn’t look at any of us.”

“That’s adorable,” the client marvels. “I ought to see what else makes you blush.”

Levi doesn’t know what to say. Is accepting that offer too forward, too confident? Is denying it rude? He searches for a response to match his persona, staring straight ahead blankly.

Down the hall, he spots Erwin walking with another stranger. With the way Master Erwin is politely lighting the man’s cigar, Levi can only assume this is another client Erwin intends to treat like royalty. Business must boom for the Master because of his splendid service.

Eyes bordered by wire glasses land on Levi’s body from several metres away and they’re instantly bewitched. Levi can’t focus on anything with those sunken, wicked eyes carving into him. The men around him are ogling, but that bespectacled stranger is consuming. Tearing him apart with a mere look, ripping him to shreds and feasting on every scrap. Erwin speaks to the man, but his advertisements are falling on deaf ears.

Levi hurts from the stare. He wishes the bearded freak would look elsewhere—even if just for a moment. He knows that look of greed from countless aristocrats, that glimmer in the eye that’s been polished with a lust for power. It makes him sick.

He despises how those eyes watch him, but he understands that that look is what will pay him. That hunger will convert into a profit, so he cannot refuse it.

Clients and courtesans come and go. Some disappear into private rooms and some mill about the space. The House is not only a place of pleasure, but perhaps a safe retreat for those with queer interests. It is a blatant molly-house; people have come here whether or not they have an appointment since it is one of the few places in the city that embraces shunned sexuality.

Finally, after a bout of murmured questions and answers, Erwin and that bearded stranger separate. The Master returns to the lounge while the newcomer leaves, finally removing his suffocating gaze from Levi’s body.

“Levi,” Erwin calls. “At six this evening, I expect you in my office. Kneel in front of my desk, facing the door. Is that understood?”

Levi’s just glad to be rid of that sight. “That’s understood, Master.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

Levi’s off the pedestal instantly and darting out of the lounge, not even offering a word of gratitude or farewell as he escapes. He goes upstairs, making sure nobody else can drink in his embarrassment.

In the last few hours before six, Levi rests. He still can’t sleep, but the quarters are warm enough to lie without constantly trembling. He doesn’t want to do anything else without a scrap of clothing on, even though he knows there’s a staggering amount of cleaning to be done.

He’ll get to it eventually, but he’s not willing to try sweeping with his dick swinging around.

When six comes, Levi finds himself alone in Erwin’s office, stooping down to kneel in front of the desk. He watches the door as he situates himself, waiting for Erwin’s arrival at any moment.

What comes next, he’s not certain of. Whether it’s more initiation, or perhaps another reprimand, or a sort of training to prepare for upcoming clients. He doesn’t know what to expect in this office—he never knows. He understands he’ll have to come to terms with that uncertainty. Putting trust in the Master will be required of him and all he knows is that he’s woefully underprepared to accept that.

Chapter Text

When Erwin enters, he’s not quick to address his kneeling employee. He’s reading paperwork as he crosses the floor and simply neglects to greet Levi as he comes behind the desk and searches through a drawer. The waiting courtesan might as well be invisible.

Levi doesn’t want to be ignored and regarded as an art instalment. “Hey.”

Erwin doesn’t respond. He takes a vial and his papers to one of the couches, putting himself in clear view of Levi.

“Don’t ignore me.”

“Five minutes of silence,” Erwin says, setting his belongings on the coffee table and checking his wristwatch. “Then I’ll speak to you.”

Levi’s lips form a thin line, his teeth gnawing into his lower lip. He’s clearly being trained by Erwin, forced to complete instructions so his behaviour can be reshaped.

It’s for the salary, he reminds himself. This ass-kissing will eventually pay him.

Erwin reads to pass the time, indifferent to Levi’s eyes eating up his form. Everything from the blond crown to the hefty thighs is examined while five minutes come and go. He has an impressive stature and a physique that rivals Levi’s, a real herculean body that makes Levi wonder if clients ever ask for the Master himself.

The Master probably doesn’t offer his own body, though. That’s beneath him, thus delegated to his graceless underlings.

Without warning, Erwin straightens up and spreads his feet. “Crawl to me, Levi, and kneel between my legs.”

Levi throws himself onto his hands, far more obedient when there’s only one set of eyes on him rather than several. He makes his journey quick, feeling his cock slap against his thighs as he hobbles closer. Fitting himself between Erwin’s legs, he shoves his hands into his lap.

“Next time,” Erwin starts with a hand cupping Levi’s jaw. “You will look at me as you move. You will not hide your eyes.”

“Yes, Master,” Levi mumbles.

“Don’t be shy with confirmation. You’re meant to be proud to serve me.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Erwin nods once. “You will be, soon.”

Levi doesn’t believe that for a second.

“It’s not important right now. Something more pressing has come up.”

“What?”

“You’ve received your first client, Levi.”

“Oh.” That statement is a grim reminder of reality. Levi has known this will happen from the start, but he hasn’t felt it sink in until those words hit his ears. What he’ll do next—pleasuring clients, giving up his body, and defiling himself—has been given a tiny corner of his mind to occupy. Now, it’s rearing its sickening head.

“Quite sooner than most of my men do. I would normally turn down the client until you’ve acclimated, but this customer will pay well. He’s worth pandering to. Plus, he wants your demeanour now, before you grow too comfortable.”

Levi wants to hurl at the sound of that. Only vile monsters want courtesans who are inexperienced and naive. He hates the lust for innocence.

“Before I’m used to pigs fucking me?” Levi clarifies. “That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Open your mouth.”

Levi’s stunned. “What—agh—”

He chokes as Erwin buries a thumb in his tongue, crushing the muscle against the floor of his mouth.

“Anyway,” Erwin resumes while Levi squirms and groans on his digit. “The opportunity is promising, but that doesn’t mean I plan to overlook your comfort. I know it’s sudden and it’s harsh. It’s egregious to ask you to perform services on your first day here.”

Levi, suffering a sudden and harsh assault on his mouth, cannot believe Erwin’s hypocrisy. He’s tempted to bite the thumb off.

“I scheduled an appointment with him for seven, an hour from now. I set aside the time for him, but I cautioned him that I would cancel based on my courtesan’s attitude. The decision to attend tonight’s appointment is yours.”

Levi rests teeth on Erwin’s skin, mentally repeating his promise. He has a choice? He’s not required to perform if he doesn’t want to?

It goes against their first meeting, with the way Erwin viciously took him without proper permission given. Levi loosely gave consent, though he knows that battle happened out of necessity more than pleasure.

So will all battles here. Service is for the clients, not the courtesans. Levi can’t be expected to glean any sort of pleasure from his work.

He knows that. He’s here to get paid, and he only earns money through appointments. Through being uncomfortable, through selling himself. Perhaps this first appointment is sudden, but with it will come an early first salary.

“I—hh—” he breathes on Erwin, struggling to flex his tongue.

“Would you like to speak, Levi?”

“Nn-hn.”

“Then you know what you need to do.”

Levi grimaces, his thighs squeezing together as he begrudgingly finds the words.

“M-may I pleathe thpeak, Math-ter?”

“Certainly. Tell me your thoughts.”

Levi swallows when the thumb leaves him, clearing the taste from his mouth. “I need to get paid,” he declares. “I’m here to work, so just let me work. I’ll take the appointment.”

“Are you certain? You haven’t settled into this lifestyle yet.”

Levi shakes his head. “This lifestyle is just getting fucked—is just…performing services and getting paid. I don’t need to waste time wandering around the House for a week.”

“It takes more than you think to have an appointment. I’d like to make sure you can handle it.”

“I’ve already handled you,” Levi gnarls. “…Master,” he adds with a sharp bite.

“I suppose you have.” Erwin looks over the hissing cat, lamenting its willingness to dance. It must need rescue from its previous life. “Very well. I’ll go over what you can expect.” He coasts a hand over his own knee, gesturing to the perch. “Bend over my thigh.”

Levi recoils. “Why? So you can emasculate me before I get screwed?”

“So I can prepare you. Bend over.”

“That’s—”

“Levi,” Erwin booms, shutting up the nuisance. “Final warning.”

Levi doesn’t know what’s on the other side of that warning, but he knows Erwin isn’t stupid enough to make it something tame. Deciding against testing fate, Levi crawls up Erwin’s leg and keels over his knee, the crest of his ass perked high. He braces forearms against the floor and drops his head, his face flooding with rushing blood.

“Obey on the first command next time.” Erwin picks up the vial, beginning the process he’s executed hundreds of times before. “At a certain point, I expect my boys to do this for themselves. I’ll take care of you only the first few times.”

Levi tenses when a wet fingertip circles his hole, the sensation no more enjoyable than last time. He’s prodded and rubbed, gentle but invasive nonetheless. Only the respite of privacy soothes him.

“As I said earlier, we have rules for clients, too.” Erwin strokes Levi’s back while he works, his hands slow and warm. “Most importantly, any acts they perform must be approved by me first. If they do something beyond what was agreed upon, they’re fined and permanently banned.”

Levi’s thighs twitch as a fingertip pushes inside, his muscles closing around the digit. He fuses his teeth together, nearly all his focus lost to Erwin’s fingering.

“Naturally, they’re not allowed any services without payment. I give my boys free will to flirt and touch, but full scenes or sexual intercourse requires a signed agreement to pay. If a client breaks that agreement, I resolve it.”

Ominous, is the one word that flashes in Levi’s mind before a curled finger shreds his mentation. Electricity dances down his legs as his walls are traced, every second filled with strange, incomprehensible feelings.

“Your client tonight has already submitted his list of requests. I’ve approved all of them.”

Something flares in Levi’s mind. “Master,” he calls, smothering the urge to groan.

“Yes?”

“What—what’s on the list?” He seals his lips shut as soon as the question is out.

“Hmm.” Erwin works two fingers inside, scissoring Levi’s entrance. “All I’ll say is one of his requests was that you remain uninformed.”

Dread drops an anchor in Levi’s stomach. He’s horrified by the idea of going in blind, but even more so by the notion that Erwin approved of it. He’s not secure enough to trust the Master, yet as always the Master holds the power he cannot manipulate.

“I promise, Levi, there’s nothing extreme listed. He even clarified he’d prefer to be gentle with you. Are you comfortable with that?”

The time for expressing discomfort has passed ages ago. Levi exhales, his muscles relaxing. “That’s fine.”

“Good. I admire how strong you are.” Erwin strokes Levi’s waist, running fingers up to the troughs of his ribcage. “You’re booked for an hour and I’ll speak with you afterward. You will not be neglected, I assure you.”

Levi lets his cheek rest against Erwin’s calf, succumbing to the sincerity of Erwin’s promise.

“I’m going to keep working on you until seven. Relax. Ask me questions if you have any.” Erwin thrusts deeper, knowing Levi’s ready to take it.

Levi’s eyelids close intentionally, but lazily. The pain isn’t so bad right now and it’s probably quite tame compared to what he’s going to experience. This is his last oasis before hell.

So Levi allows himself to disappear. He dispels panic from his mind and elects to forget about the future, shutting down to reset his mind. His head is heavy with blood and he lets it droop, his eyes rolled back in his skull.

When he trades fright for mindlessness, the fingers enter him with less difficulty. Erwin’s hands push his asscheeks apart and spear three fingers inside, moving at a snail’s pace to hilt themselves. They’re received easily, Levi’s body disinterested in rebelling.

For at least ten minutes, Erwin repeats the motion. He sometimes spreads his fingers, widening the diameter of the entrance, then resumes familiarising Levi with the feeling of something running along his walls.

When he’s satisfied, Erwin reduces his effort to two fingers, exchanging size for dexterity. He dips in and out right at the entrance, teasing the nerves over and over. Skilled fingertips rim the circle, push inside, curl, retract, and move in a million exotic ways to rile the tiny body.

Levi’s mindlessness withers in the presence of an unearthed sensation: a foreign rush of warmth and hormones spurred by Erwin’s motion. His relaxed head now braces against Erwin’s calf, weak against the good feelings strangling him. He feels his legs twitch and his toes curl, almost offended to realise that his body is succumbing to this earth-shattering touch.

Erwin sinks in and finds a spot, one he has remembered from yesterday. He pushes into it, runs his fingertips back to the entrance, then repeats the process. Flesh squelches as his tempo increases just slightly, stirring a helpless tremble in Levi’s thighs.

The rookie can’t take it. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on and it utterly frightens him. It’s so good, but it’s horrible. This is vile, not pleasurable! How can it be pleasurable?

“Master.” The tone of Levi’s voice gives him away immediately. His one word is weak and high-pitched, nearly a whine. He sounds nothing like the stubborn cat that resists sexual advances.

“Yes, Levi?”

Levi’s chest is plastered to the calf now, clinging to its only cornerstone. He doesn’t know what he wants to say. All he knows is that he’s undergoing something otherworldly and he has no idea how to navigate it.

“It—it—” Another attempt to speak will surely end in a moan, a sound Levi hasn’t felt himself utter but assumes must be possible. His tight throat threatens to make some debauched noise soon, something worse than the stiff grunts he spilled yesterday.

“Tell me how it feels,” Erwin murmurs tenderly, his fingering consistent and powerful.

Levi’s dizzy, his body hot and swirling with unwarranted pleasure. It’s not his fault—he can’t stop biology. He didn’t ask for this but his system is choosing to react anyway. There’s nothing wrong with reporting symptoms to the professional.

“It—” Levi catches his breath in his throat before he gives in. Even now, he refuses to make a sound. “It f-feels—good.”

Erwin keeps his pace. “It does, doesn’t it? Have you felt something like this before?”

Levi curls an arm around Erwin’s ankle, every part of him trembling. “N-no.”

“Hmm.” Erwin hoists up Levi’s hips and continues. “Your previous experiences must have been quite lacklustre then.”

“I-I—no—they—”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to respond to that.” Even if he did, Erwin assumes, it would likely just be haphazard lies. He doesn’t want Levi to focus on deceit right now.

Levi’s eyes burst open when Erwin moves faster, executing a perfect pattern that overwhelms every nerve. A thin, breathy something shuffles out of Levi’s lips, the spark that encourages his lungs to spill more. He resists, nailing his lips to Erwin’s ankle and holding his breath.

“Grace me, Levi,” Erwin requests. “I’ve brought you pleasure you haven’t felt before, so reward me. Let me hear you moan. Let me hear how well I’m doing.”

Stuttered huffs stop in Levi’s mouth, shut in by his glued lips. He claws into the fabric of Erwin’s trousers as his body falls prey to another wave of pleasure.

It’s quicker. Wet, heavy, deep, fast. Levi feels a zing shoot through his body, one that throws his jaw open and frees his lungs.

“That—hah!” he moans, shaking nonstop. He tries to replace his cries with meaningless words but the syllables continue to crumble into lewd moans. He can’t help it—the feeling of his own throat crying out only doubles the pleasure.

“That’s my good boy,” Erwin praises, tripling Levi’s high. “Embrace it, Levi. Tell me, nice and loud, how much you like it.”

Levi can’t even consider shutting his mouth now. “It—nh—feels so good. M-my bod—gh—body feels good. Hah! Wh-why?”

“Why?” Erwin echoes. “Because it’s pleasurable to be touched in sensitive areas. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Levi’s palms are glazed with sweat, his face just as shiny. He’s drunk with pleasure, forgetting his need for decency in pursuit of this wondrous feeling. His moans are riddled with genuine lust and miles away from his speaking voice like his vocal cords are purposefully searching for the most scandalous sounds they can produce.

“I treat you too well for your misbehaviour,” Erwin sighs. “You ought to be grateful I’m extending this courtesy at all.”

The tempo slowing just a hair flashes terror in Levi’s mind. He’s not ready for this to end—he’s not done exploring. The reluctant god must be appeased.

“I—I am. Thank you, Master. Thank—ah!” he cries when Erwin forces three deep inside. “Thankyouthankyou.”

“That’s right. I put up with this attitude because you’re too damn irresistible.” The hand on Levi’s back has grown firmer, clawing into the skin of Levi’s waist. “You’re a natural, Levi. Just listen to you cry out for me.”

Pressure starts building, startling Levi. His breath hitches as he feels his pelvis grow heavy, stimulation of one area causing a reaction in another. He’s felt this sensation only a few times before and he’s never been given an explanation for its seemingly impromptu occurrence.

“Oh, dear.” With a glance up at a clock, Erwin sighs. “Twenty ‘til. I suppose we ought to finish up and prepare for your appointment.”

Levi fails to stop a whiny, “No,” as the fingers leave him, his ass shooting up to beg for them to return. “I—Master—”

“Get up, Levi. Let me look you over.”

Injected with a twinge of clarity, Levi feels pure mortification drench his body as he sees his position. His desperate ass, chasing after that blond’s digits? He’s fallen too far for his own good.

Blood whirlpools in his head as he rises, his senses momentarily disoriented. His cheeks are burning red and sweaty, and his expression can’t decide between pleasure and shame. Lubricant stains his ass and thighs, both of which quiver as he finds his footing.

One glance downward absolutely shocks him. His cock, merely an extension of his body used for pissing, is now as hard as stone and sticks straight out from his pelvis. Clear drops eke out of his tip and veins snake up the shaft, alive with flowing blood.

He shoots out a confused grunt as he puts a hand over it, hiding the display from Erwin. He felt pleasure, yes, but he didn’t want to be hard from it. He especially does not want Erwin to know.

But Erwin does. The Master watches Levi’s hand hide his anatomy, amused with his consistent shyness.

“What’s the matter, Levi? This is a normal bodily reaction.”

“Shut up,” Levi whispers, blocking the last several minutes from his memory. “I didn’t—I can’t control it—”

“I know.” Erwin takes Levi’s wrist and draws it away. “Have you had it like this before?”

“Of course,” Levi bites. “Everybody’s had a hard dick at some point.”

Erwin can’t deny that. “And have you followed through, reaching an orgasm?”

Levi stiffens. “Of course.”

Now there’s the lie. A lie, granted, that even Erwin doesn’t want to believe is false. Has this man truly never orgasmed before? His prior life may have been brutal, but did it also deprive him of just a moment of sensual exploration? It seems so.

“Well, there’s never a need to hide it.” Erwin strokes Levi’s hip, making sure the courtesan isn’t tempted to sprint away. “In fact, you have no need to touch it anymore. Besides urination and hygiene, you’re not permitted to touch or explore your cock without my permission.”

“You’re kidding.” Levi jerks back an inch before Erwin’s hand halts him. “It’s my dick. I can do whatever I’d like—”

“You gave your body to the House, Levi. Need I remind you whose words are absolute?”

“But—”

“If I find you disobeying, you’ll be put into chastity indefinitely. Is that clear?”

Levi frowns in confusion. “Chastity?”

Erwin’s silent. He’s too stunned to speak, digging up more and more of Levi’s inexperience. He must be careful with this student.

“Don’t concern yourself with it.” Erwin rises with a hand on Levi’s nape. “Come; let’s go to your private room.”

Levi can’t think of any more retorts, too strangled in his own mixed feelings. It’s aggravating to sort out his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and allows Erwin to guide him out of the office.

He scans the faces of wanderers in the main area, hoping none heard his brief exploration. He’s taken to the door closest to Erwin’s office, its brass plaque expressing a string of incomprehensible letters.

“This is the Velvet Room,” Erwin explains while unlocking the door handle. Levi wonders if that title is what the plaque reads. “We have four themed rooms in total. Our clients have the right to request a particular room.”

Levi steps into an antechamber, a predecessor to the main playroom. There’s a sink, wash basin, and a mirror along one wall, a massive wardrobe on the other. Erwin points out how it’s for use by both clients and courtesans, giving either a chance to clean up before or after the scene. The wardrobe holds robes of every size, towels, and generic sets of clothing.

In this room, Levi’s told to remain still while Erwin brings a damp washcloth over his thighs and ass. While he cleans off the lubricant, Levi’s relieved to see his cock is finally dying down. He’s sick of it showing off his unwanted excitement.

Erwin opens the door across the way for him, allowing Levi to cross from tile to carpet as he enters the Velvet Room.

It’s a bedroom fit for royalty and just as crimson as its title suggests. An enormous bed is crowned with a chiffon golden canopy and littered with pillows in nearly every shade of red. There’s a fainting couch and a dining table for two, truly offering a variety of furniture for gentlemen to get fucked on. Nearly every surface in here has to already have been used for that purpose—realising that flips Levi’s stomach.

There are no windows but plenty of light sources. Switches operate an overhead chandelier and several eloquent wall lamps, plus there are candelabras with provided matches. Any preference for light level can be achieved. Levi silently hopes his first client chooses a dimmer level.

“Take a seat.” Erwin heads to a dresser near the door and takes an ashtray from its top drawer. “He’d like you to start at the dining table.”

Levi perches cautiously in the cushioned seat, glancing at the empty spot across from him. He watches Erwin place the ashtray beside a candelabra that he subsequently lights.

“He does smoke,” Erwin warns. “As I said, many do.”

“You could’ve told him not to.”

“You’re expected to conform. I give you the choice of participation, but not of individual aspects.” Erwin shakes out the flame on a match. “Are you still willing to provide service?”

Levi nods. Whoever he’s going to see may not be Erwin, but they might reopen the chest of pleasure he’s struggling to unlock on his own.

“Good. Remember, this client holds a lot of promise, so treat him well. You’re fortunate he likes your attitude, but that doesn’t mean you should go overboard.”

“It’s not a damn character,” Levi grumbles. “I can’t help it if I just hate this place.”

“You see the grandfather clock?” Erwin asks, pointing. “You’re booked for an hour and only an hour. If he goes a second over, you’re expected to end the scene and come find me or another gentleman.”

Levi likes the sound of that. He’d be more than happy to kick the balls of some aristocrat and flee once seeing it’s one minute past eight. He could overpower these fuckers, definitely. He’s just not allowed to if he wants money.

“He’s due to arrive at any moment. Is there anything else you want to ask me before I go?”

Levi scans the room, swallowing down the trepidation plaguing his mind. He has no questions. Just fears. There’s nothing he could really ask to dispel them, though.

“He…will be gentle, right? That’s what you said?”

“That’s right.” Erwin hears the doubt in Levi’s voice, the fright of a beginner performer. “My business is prolific enough to deter clients from misbehaving. No sane man would risk breaking their agreement with me.”

Levi nods, recalling the infamy of the Magnolia House long before he had joined. “Okay.”

“Are you adequately prepared, Levi?”

Levi meets Erwin’s eyes, amazed to syphon a bit of courage from them. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Make me proud. I’ll come fetch you right after.”

Erwin shuts his subordinate in the Velvet Room, closing its door and the door to the antechamber on his way out. His broad back rests against the panel, a sigh depressing his chest.

Not even one full day in the House and Levi already has a client. If it were any other client, he would have gladly told them to wait a week or so, but he recognised the family crest of the Jaegers pinned to Beast’s lapel. That client knew what wealth he was boasting when he risked wearing his family’s name, a gamble so powerful Erwin struggled to say no.

So he didn’t, but he tried again with Levi. Levi also didn’t say no. At least the two of them are similar; at least they both understand the necessary lengths to go to for profit. Levi has a reasonable head on his shoulders except for the clear lack of experience. He’s as mature as a rookie can be.

And beautiful, too. Extremely beautiful. Erwin saw the way his boys watched the newcomer, their eyes filled with amazement or jealousy. They had to see his nudity, how flawlessly his body had been sculpted. Look what I found, Erwin wanted to boast. Humanity’s perfect specimen.

Clients will covet him. Clients will throw money and grovel and fight for that body, even more so for that attitude. It doesn’t suit everyone’s tastes, but many crass businessmen love the image of a submissive desperate to stay dignified. It’s just another characteristic they can tear down, reduce to ashes, then repeat the process with the next week. Levi may grow accustomed, but his personality won’t budge so easily. He’ll always hold a shred of pride.

Levi took Erwin well. He hasn’t run away yet, nor harassed the other gentlemen beyond snide remarks. And, just now, he’s come alive under Erwin’s perverted hands. He’s shown he can enjoy pleasure and that he’s desperate to explore more.

Erwin wants to teach him. He’d spend all night learning the personality of Levi’s body, stroking and fondling every spot he could think of until his plaything was no longer human. He craves those clenched teeth that struggle to withhold moans, and he adores snapping Levi’s resistance and releasing the cascades of lewd noises. He wants Levi’s body to beg for him again, twitching and offering itself for him to finger. His ankle throbs from how tightly Levi grasped it, but he does not care. He’s addicted to the feeling.

For a moment, he curses Beast. He wishes the Jaeger client had waited just a little longer before requesting Levi. If only he could’ve had a few more days with his new toy, which would give him time to break it in and eat up all the pleasure it could offer before sharing its wonder. Beast is ill-prepared to withstand such an angel of euphoria and Erwin knows it.

Perhaps he should’ve turned him down. It might have been wiser to insist on waiting—after all, any person with eyes would wait centuries to merge with Levi. Then Erwin could have his desired time and could’ve moulded Levi into a supreme performer that would rake in unbelievable profit.

But he jumped at the opportunity before it drifted away and he accepted Beast. Beast had a well-meant demeanour, an air of smugness but at least one backed by intelligence, and a dangerous secret in the form of his family name. He’s presented himself as a safe and reliable client, so Erwin couldn’t refuse.

It will be alright. Levi will be timid, as Beast wants. They’ll play for an hour, a relationship will be established, and Beast will pay finely. Erwin remembers the list of acceptable actions and truly finds nothing too outlandish. All of his courtesans have dabbled in play much more extreme than that—even the tamer, sensitive boys. Levi will be just fine.

“Master.”

Erwin shelves his thought process and looks up at Russell, one of his older, Dominant men. Russell has a lean build and a smooth voice, plus decades of experience in extreme, wicked play. Nobody in the House can torment a client quite like Russell can, but his submissives squeal with delight and tip handsomely. He’s easily one of Erwin’s best workers.

“Are you worried about him?” Russell asks, aware of who sits inside the Velvet Room.

“Perhaps a little,” Erwin admits. “Though there’s always reluctance when a courtesan has their first client. So soon for Levi, too.”

“Yes, maybe so.” Russell scans passing faces, sharing telepathic thoughts with the occasional sympathetic courtesan. “He’ll do well, I’m sure. He’s nervous but he’s quite resolved.”

“I agree.” Erwin straightens up, his mind shackled to the Velvet Room. “I’ll be in my office, Russell. Escort in Beast when he arrives.”

“Certainly, Master.”

When Erwin slips back into his office and locks the door, he fully accepts the fact that this is a desperate retreat. He doesn’t have the strength to socialise right now, not while his brittle child is wrapped up in a playroom gifted to a new client. It’s gnawing at him.

He wants to watch—not out of some voyeuristic urge, but simply to supervise the trainee. To make sure he performs well, and that his client is respectful. Beast knows this is Levi’s first appointment and Erwin made sure to squeeze every last penny out of him for that privilege. If he wants the spotless lamb, he’d better pay finely for it.

Erwin sits at his desk and eyes the wall’s clock. Five minutes past seven. Beast must be in the room by now. He’s probably dragging eyes over Levi’s naked body, his cock hard and angry already. There might be a devious gleam in his eye, and he’s likely smoking a cigar while wondering where to start with his courtesan.

Be gentle, Erwin telepathizes to the Velvet Room. It’s been ages since he’s dealt with a beginner and even he has to continually remind himself of a proper pace to go. Raunchy elites desperate for a quick fuck won’t remember etiquette as well as a sexual expert will. Beast isn’t stupid, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be perfect for Levi’s first appointment.

Erwin should’ve experimented with Levi more. Perhaps Levi’s first appointment should’ve been a threesome. Then he could’ve had another courtesan to at least help him through the session. Maybe Erwin should’ve spent more time screening Beast. Cautioning him further. Threatening him into being the perfect client for Levi.

Something else should’ve been done but it’s too late. Erwin cannot do anything about it until the hour is up. He checks the clock.

Six minutes past seven.

He clasps his fingers and drops his head. This hour will be his longest yet.

Chapter Text

There are still twelve minutes until the session ends but Erwin is already outside the door to the Velvet Room in early anticipation. He’s braced against the wall and watching the sparse activity of his House, silently demanding that absolutely nobody speak with him. He can’t think straight until his courtesan is released.

Six minutes later, the door is peeled open and out steps the client. His dusty blond shag is still neatly parted, suggesting activity didn’t get too turbulent inside. His signature glasses are returned to his face once wiped down, and he shuts the door without any hindrance in his gait or posture. He’s fine.

“Master Erwin.” He sees the waiting Master and works his lips into a pleased grin. “Here to pick up your boy?”

Erwin’s face is sterner than usual, forgetting to put forth any sort of amiability. He’s lost trust in this client through his own paranoia.

There is still a chance of a relationship; Erwin cannot lose it. He remembers the ideal etiquette.

“How was your session?” he asks, softening the glare in his eyes.

“Wonderful. You’ve got a darling little thing in there, you really do.” Beast scratches his ear, reminiscing on the past hour. “Clumsy, as you said. It’s pretty cute.”

“I pray he wasn’t too shy.”

“Not at all. Just glaring and tense the whole time. His attitude is adorable.”

“I’m glad to hear that. He’s quite stubborn at times.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be reaching out to you in the near future.” Beast shuffles his sleeve back and checks the time. “Oh, one thing, though.”

Erwin tenses. “Yes?”

Beast slides a sunken eye up to Erwin’s face, shedding a layer of sociability.

“Teach the boy how to suck a cock, please. I could barely get the tip in him.”

A sledgehammer slams into Erwin, shattering his heart. The image of a grimacing Levi gagging and wrapping frightened lips around someone’s dick sickens him to his core. It was on Beast’s lists, and Erwin knew that, and he still approved it since a simple blowjob is typical for workers in the Magnolia House.

Not for Levi, though. Erwin curses himself for not taking one moment to deeply consider Levi’s ability. Why hadn’t he? He tortures himself with this question.

“Duly noted,” he murmurs.

“Thanks. Good day, Master. I look forward to returning.”

Erwin doesn’t see the client out and soon another courtesan appears to do so for him. Plagued with worry, Erwin slips into the Velvet Room to fetch Levi.

The light level is the exact same as he left it. The shafts of the candelabra have coated themselves in melted wax, beneath which an empty ashtray still sits. Beast didn’t smoke. The furniture is untouched and empty except for the bed which holds a huddled courtesan.

Levi’s deep in the canopied alcove, crimson sheets pulled up to his hugged knees. It’s hard to see his eyes in the darkness; his hair has drooped and his cheeks press into the crevice between his knees. A single glimmer on his iris proves he’s looking at Erwin.

Erwin feels his heart thud quickly in his chest. He’s seen this image before: a distraught courtesan after a particularly nasty session. Some clients are horrible, triggering difficult feelings for Erwin’s boys that leave them withdrawn and upset. Erwin’s always prepared to help them recover and, if the situation deems it appropriate, ban clients based on their actions.

Beast may not have done anything particularly brutal, but even the bare minimum must be enough to rattle Levi. He was introduced to a plethora of sexual acts quickly, faster than his innocent mind could comprehend.

“Levi.” Erwin sits on the bed’s edge, hesitant about invading Levi’s den. “How are you feeling?”

Levi flicks his eyes elsewhere. “I’m fine,” he mumbles into his legs.

His voice is even and intact. Beast didn’t assault his throat in a frenzy for a good cocksleeve. The sheets are warm under Erwin’s palm, but there are no stains. Overall, it seems like the results of a tame scene.

Erwin doesn’t dismiss Levi’s attitude because of that, though. Tame for him, tame for the other courtesans, but not for Levi.

“May I come closer to you?” Erwin requests.

Levi pulls his knees in more. “Why are you asking? You’re the damn Master.”

“Because I don’t know what’s best for you yet. You might be soothed by my close company or by having personal space. I won’t—”

“I don’t need to be soothed,” Levi grumbles. “I said I’m fine.”

Still stubborn as ever. He refuses to let anything shake him.

Erwin climbs onto the bed, warily approaching Levi. “You’re clearly troubled. I would like for you to talk to me about it.”

“Nothing to talk about.” Levi doesn’t hiss at him for nearing, suggesting some form of permission. “It was a scene like any other. Nothing special.”

“It was your first.” Erwin kneels beside Levi’s balled-up body. “It’s quite special in that regard. I want to see if you handled it well.”

“It was fine.”

“Speak to me, Levi. If something went wrong, I have to know or I won’t be able to set it right.”

Making eye contact with Erwin deters Levi from being honest. “It’s nothing important. Can’t be fixed, anyways.”

“Every detail is important. Tell me.”

Levi buries his face deeper. “You’ll think it’s stupid. I don’t need another thing to be ridiculed for.”

“Then whatever you tell me will stay in this room. I’m not interested in making a joke about your plight.”

Levi shifts his head away, hiding his face as much as possible.

“He…kissed me.”

Erwin pauses. That was certainly a possibility; he had seen it on the list. He was surprised Beast had mentioned it at all, since most clients tend to assume it’s permitted as a given. Kissing is so common and familiar—

Lightning strikes Erwin’s brain. “Levi,” he breathes, suddenly clinging to Levi’s shoulder. “Have you never shared a kiss before?”

Levi doesn’t flinch under Erwin’s hand. “Of course I have,” he says quieter than a whisper.

He’s lying. He’s actually lying. Erwin can’t find a hint of truth even if he wants to.

It has been some time since the Master has felt guilt, years of unchaste ventures numbing him to the feeling. Now, though, he’s faced with his sin in the only language that would reach him. He’s taken something simple yet precious from a young boy—no, he’s allowed a total stranger to steal it from him. He’s thrown this child and a hungry animal in a cage, giving the predator the freedom to defile and thieve.

“I’m sorry, Levi.”

Levi doesn’t answer. He clasps his own hand under the sheet and sighs.

“For what? It’s just a session.” Levi lifts his head, donning his indifferent armour.

Erwin ignores his attempt to deflect. “I should have known. I should’ve—” He stops himself. What room does he have to talk? Only yesterday, he took something more precious than a first kiss. He clouded his judgments with Levi’s lie, foolishly believing Levi’s claim of venery until the deed was done. Levi’s ethereal beauty had blinded him, morphing him into a greedy miser that locked up the human treasure in the House where he vowed to puppet its life.

Levi’s not a regular courtesan. He’s never done this before and Erwin was presumptuous for assuming he’d conform to the lifestyle easily. His mistake has torn a gash in the soul of this individual, an individual so perfect he doesn’t deserve a single spot on his heart. Erwin has truly tainted his one chance at glorifying a living angel.

Erwin draws his hand back, despair clutching his heart. He has no right to even be near the result of his gluttony.

Levi glances at his empty shoulder. “You’re a moron, Master.”

Erwin has lost his need for discipline. He can’t be upset with Levi’s tongue. “How so?”

Dropping his knees, Levi sits cross-legged with a hand pulling the sheet over his limp cock. “You’re too soft, getting depressed over every tiny thing. I said I’m fine.” He shows his face, somehow placating Erwin with his usual glower. “I knew what I was doing when I came here to work. Of course shitheads are going to kiss me and fuck me—I’m not daft. Your knickers are in a twist for no damn reason.”

Of all outcomes, Erwin hadn’t bet on his new courtesan comforting him being one of them. He parts his lips to speak even though his scrambled brain is still searching for words.

“You’re welcome to punish me for my language,” Levi adds. “If that would make your ego feel better.”

Levi’s stronger than him right now. Levi’s outdoing the Master—Erwin can’t let it remain like that.

“Not now,” Erwin responds. “But you’re not safe from future reprimand just because I currently pity you.”

“Good. It’d be downright pathetic if you lost your balls around me.” Levi combs his hair back, allowing the candlelight to reach his expression.

Erwin spots the gleam on Levi’s cheeks, the hardened fluid that’s nearly indiscernible if one isn’t familiar with the sight.

The Beast came on his face. That, in Erwin’s head, seems more devastating than a stolen kiss, but Levi has omitted to mention it. Perhaps he’s ashamed or disgusted.

“Would you like to get cleaned up?”

Levi nods.

“Wait here.” Erwin gets off the bed, committed to helping his employee. “I’ll get you a washcloth.”

By the time Erwin’s returned with a robe and a damp cloth, Levi’s already up and fixing the bed sheets, tucking them neatly under the mattress. He’s not fighting to hide his nudity right now, about as careless as an emperor with invisible clothes. The candlelight paints his pale backside in a golden hue, shadows hugging his waist and neck and flowing through the dips in his muscles. Simply beautiful, Erwin muses. The way he operates in such a dignified manner is truly awe-inspiring.

“Levi,” Erwin calls, and the painted face turns. He extends his gifts.

Levi snatches the robe first, wrapping himself up in black satin that’s a bit bigger on him than most men. The hem sits just above his knees and the neckline cuts deep into his chest. He doesn’t mind—it’s better than nothing.

Taking the washcloth, he tsks as he rubs it along his cheekbone. “Fucking disgusting,” he mutters to himself.

“Tolerable?” Erwin wonders.

Levi winces at the milky chunks on the cloth. “Yeah. I’ll get used to it.”

He keeps wiping up as Erwin guides him out of the room, able to walk confidently now that his body is covered. Everybody is invisible to him as he hurries to the staircase, his Master beside him.

“I’ll deliver your salary tomorrow morning,” Erwin says as they reach the second story. “After your bath, you can come talk with me—”

“No, I’m fine.” Levi keeps the washcloth in a strong fist, claiming it as his. “You don’t need to nanny me.”

“You’ve been through a lot—”

“I had sex. It’s nothing.” Levi stops in the hallway, shooting a glare to Erwin. “What I would like right now is to clean up and be alone. Maybe I do prefer personal space.”

Erwin asks himself if he’s being too clingy. He’s not, since he offers his company to every courtesan when they start out. Nearly every single one had accepted the offer.

“Very well. My boys prepare dinner around ten, if you’d like to help them.”

“Whatever.” Levi’s not bothering to linger another second. He continues down the hall, his sights set on the washroom.

“Thank you for staying in the House, Levi. I appreciate your loyalty.”

“Ass-kisser,” Levi gnarls before slamming shut the washroom door.

To Levi’s benefit, the room is empty. Any room he’s alone in becomes a pocket in reality, detaching him from the universe until someone shows up to ruin the comfort of isolation.

He sighs, relaxing his body. He feels fine—physically, at least. Beast was easy and gentle, though he had a repulsive smirk that never faded and an abundance of taunting quips. He pet Levi’s hair tenderly while wondering why his cheeks had flushed so red. He traced fingers around Levi’s nipples as he asked if anyone had ever played with them before. Clement actions but vicious, harrowing words.

Levi steps closer to the mirror, checking his appearance. The same as always—a reassuring sight, for once. On the sink counter, a bundle of products catches his eye.

Castile soap. Violet perfume. Tooth paste. A tooth brush. A small hair comb. A paper with a vague sketch of Levi’s face.

Levi frowns. His face? What is his depiction doing beside these things? The products seem unused; perhaps it’s a way to indicate they’re intended for them. The Master may have left them here during Levi’s appointment.

Strange he didn’t just hand them to Levi himself. Maybe he meant to, but Levi shut him out too quickly.

Hoping his assumption is correct, he gladly takes the soap bar and disappears behind the curtain, anxious to clean up.

Courtesans come and go as Levi bathes, occasionally greeting him or asking about his appointment. He ignores them, focused on scrubbing his arm with a used washcloth and watching thick, soapy bubbles swirl in the water. His thoughts have no chance to exercise with all this noise—it’s taking a great deal of effort to simply block out the commotion at all.

He steals a towel from a hook and returns it as soon as his body is dry, then slips back into his robe and takes his new gifts to his quarters. They go under his bed, far from the vanity that everybody else has claimed. There’s no deskspace left to claim, anyways, and the drawers are likely just as full.

To his pleasant surprise, his bed now holds a clean set of sheets and a single, thin blanket. He’s getting spoiled to hell and back for completing his first appointment, a task probably fueled by the Master’s guilt. Levi didn’t let that deafening silence go unnoticed.

Slipping under the sheets, he finally finds the chance to reflect on the two blonds that have clogged up his time. Beast was his first client and perhaps not a bad start; there are sure to be worse clients in the future. He stank of smoke and had absolutely no grace in his personality, but he did not pound the daylights out of Levi or viciously destroy his body. The snide insults were consistent, but Levi prefers that to horrific yet inescapable assault.

He chews his lower lip as he recalls the kiss. It was unexpected and quite foreign, a startling sensation that had left him visibly dazed. Beast’s lips tasted of tobacco as he pressed them against Levi’s, securing the courtesan in a heavy kiss while his hairy hands prevented Levi from fleeing. Levi’s eyes had been shot open until he found it less traumatising to close them, and he eventually stopped breathing to lessen the unpleasant taste. He was frozen as Beast’s beard scratched his fair skin, wondering how anyone finds this contact enjoyable. The ladies seemed quite happy when their gentleman swooped them up and drew them in for a kiss but Levi simply couldn’t find the appeal. He wondered what on earth he had been so excited for when imagining his first time.

After several comments about his tomato face, Beast merely tousled his hair and guided him to his knees. He loosened his trousers while asking Levi if he had ever seen a cock before, and Levi had to restrain himself from snapping back with a scathing, obviously, I have one too.

The cock tasted shittier than the kiss. It was slimy, fleshy, like a dead slug left in the sun. Levi worried that gagging would insult the client, but even so he couldn’t bear bringing his tongue along the length. Beast only managed to push the tip past teeth before Levi squirmed too much.

The cluelessness made him laugh. He asked Levi if he had ever touched himself while running his shaft along the bridge of Levi’s nose, coating his face in slick. He demonstrated, wrapping a fist around his own cock and pumping it while demanding Levi look at him. Levi did, watching those wire glasses until white fluid squirted onto his cheekbones and chin.

He recoiled, panicking until Beast’s hands held his hair firmly. “My seed. My soul,” the client had said. “It’s quite the honour to let it decorate your face.”

Whether or not he’s right, Levi doesn’t know. Levi doesn’t regard himself as spiritual, but Beast was quite steadfast in his glorification of the fluid. Was that white crud really some sort of divine essence?

Most surprisingly, Beast carried him to the crimson bed and left his body there, stroking his calf while complimenting his tiny frame. With a glance cast at the grandfather clock, Beast rose with a murmured, “See you soon,” before slipping outside. It was almost enough to dispel Levi’s hatred towards him.

Then Erwin came. Erwin called for him, sat beside him, panicked, and apologised. Erwin lost his halo of Master and seemed no better than a grovelling servant, horrified to think he had ruined his god. The feeling was quite flattering.

Beast did not fuck him anally, which meant Erwin’s preparation was rendered pointless. Nearly pointless, anyway. It did teach Levi something new, and that is that the same action can be painful or pleasurable depending on how it’s executed. He did not luxuriate in Erwin’s cock yesterday, but Erwin’s masterful fingers and smooth words riled him perfectly an hour ago. He craves that feeling again, anxious to learn what else can be truly enjoyable if done right.

Perhaps the same applies to kissing. Levi hopes so.

Now Levi’s semi-dressed, freshly washed, and swaddled in a warm blanket. The House has thanked him for his donated body, showering him in pleasures he’s never felt before. He cannot decide if he wants to be distraught or grateful.

Hours come and go, capped by midnight. Levi stays in bed, ignoring dinner and letting his memories torture him. It’s not the first time he’s gone without a meal, so he’s rather comfortable with the slight pang in his stomach. Gentlemen come into the room as the first hour of the morning approaches, their steps heavy as they saunter to their beds.

“He-ey,” Jules voice drawls, a dainty finger tapping Levi’s shoulder. “How you doing, Levi?”

Levi actually graces his bunkmate with sitting up, far removed from the timid mouse he was yesterday. “I’m fine.”

“Was your first appointment good?”

“Good?”

Jules shrugs. “Well, tolerable, at least?”

“…Sure.”

“Did you get the products I left for you in the bathroom?”

“That was you?”

“Yeah! I had extra, so they’re all yours.” Jules perches on the edge of Levi’s bed without its user’s permission. “Sorry about the picture—I can’t write, so I asked Chester to draw a little sketch. I hope you got the message.”

“I see.” So the toiletries were from Jules, not Erwin. “Where did you get them?”

“Miss Atkinson sells them at her general store near the park—she always has new perfumes for every season. I can have as much as I want as long as I pretend like I’m buying them for my betrothed or something.”

“Seriously? Just buy it for yourself.” Levi’s not keen on purchasing etiquette—anything he’s ever owned has been stolen.

Jules shakes their head. “Nah, that gets suspicious. If you want flowery, sweet scents too much, they’ll think you’re really…um, womanish.”

“And?” Sex is taboo—that makes sense to Levi. But he doesn’t grasp what’s wrong with having a preference for something more effeminate.

“Wow,” Jules laughs. “I’m jealous of your ignorance.”

“I’m not ignorant. I just don’t see what the worry is.”

“Yeah. Ignorant.” Jules rubs their toes together, the topic eliciting fidgety, tense behaviour. “You’ll experience it one day. Just…stay on your guard, please. The people out there aren’t like us.”

Levi knows what the world is like out there, but only through the lens of a vagrant trying to survive. He’s blind to the bigotry Jules is alluding to. To douse the flickers of anxiety in Jules, he changes the subject.

“When did you go outside?”

“The day before yesterday. Most of the courtesans leave the House that day. It’s…every six or seven days, I think.”

“Where do you go?”

“Wherever we want! Some visit family or run errands. I usually shop.” Jules is back to grinning, and their posture is relaxed. Levi’s relieved.

“I want to go out next time.”

“Only if the Master lets you. I know Earl had to stay inside last time because he skipped an appointment without warning.”

“Hm.”

“So, you know, behave.”

“Shut up.” Levi watches courtesans chat while settling into bed, his mind wandering. “I’ll do what I have to.”

“I bet you will.” Jules shoots up, snatching their bed’s ladder. “Good luck with that! See you in the morning.”

Levi collapses again, back to reliving his experiences. He runs through Beast’s scene, then his first meeting with Erwin, then the events in between. His introduction to the gentlemen, Erwin’s briefing, and the tour of the Velvet Room flash in Levi’s head. Without the weight of shame flattening him, he’s able to recount these memories with a sober mind.

He returns to the image of Erwin’s briefing, finding that one stirs the strongest emotions. Beast had been extremely visceral, but Erwin drawing magic out of his body cannot be swept from his mind. He needs to explore that again, but asking Master Erwin for help would mortify him into an early grave.

The quarters are next to silent by one, everybody quite diligent about the curfew. Levi waits one hour, then two, then three. He lays wide awake with a racing mind, tangled up in confusion, comfort, and disgust.

He’s tired of thinking about Beast. He refuses to daydream about what Erwin did to him. All he can willingly think about is the physical sensation and how to repeat them.

He recalls how he was told his cock is off-limits. Which is stupid, because it’s his, but he hesitates to disobey so brashly. Despite Beast’s despicable lesson, he still isn’t sure what he’s to do with it.

Even if he tried, he might mess something up. Even if he succeeded, littering his soul sounds damn near deadly. Perhaps that’s something only experienced individuals can do, like performing surgery or sewing a dress. If a novice tries, they might hurt themselves. Levi doesn’t want to risk it.

Erwin fingered his asshole without any trouble. Nothing escaped Levi then. Pressure built, but if Levi is cautious the pot won’t overflow.

Curious, he brings a hand to his backside and peels up the fabric of his robe. He pushes a finger into his asscrack, already cringing at himself for touching something so disgusting. That’s his asshole, for pity’s sake. Why does pleasure have to be found there of all places?

He eventually finds the hole and lightly presses into it. It’s tight—impossibly tight. But Erwin slid fingers in like it was nothing. He pushes harder but can barely embed his fingerpad in the ring. Anything more will feel like he’s gouging into a wound.

It’s not wet like it was the last two times, so that must be the problem. The washroom is nearby, but his mouth is even closer. Getting saliva anywhere is typically unhygienic as hell, but Levi’s sure his asshole has been in contact with worse substances. Saliva won’t be bad for it—probably.

He elects to run his tongue along his middle fingertip which hasn’t been tainted yet. His index, the first to explore, is kept as far from his lips as possible. He licks once, then twice, slightly wetting the digit. It’s brought back to his ass.

Only to elicit failure. Now it’s a damp ring that’s still as tight as ever and unaffected by the inadequate lubricant Levi offered. He braces himself and pushes just a little more yet his own body seems to reject him. It doesn’t want to be prodded a third time.

Giving up, he clenches his dirty fist and stares at the moonlit wall. There’s nothing more insulting than realising his body will only accept the touch of another. Of the Master. It’s as if Erwin holds the key to his pleasure and nobody else, not even himself.

The following morning, Levi receives his first salary. It’s handed to him in an envelope with four letters on the face, though it was delivered by Erwin personally so Levi knows it’s definitely meant for him. Perhaps those letters are his name.

He checks the amount while the men around him pass out plates for breakfast, trying to count coins and figure out their worth. He recognises the value of most coins, others less so. Erwin explains that what he holds is equivalent to a middle-class work week. The average man’s weekly salary is in his hands, earned through just one session.

“Higher than usual,” Erwin reminds. “Beast paid an extravagant amount to be your first.”

“Who the fuck has this much money to burn?” Levi thumbs through the coins, trying to figure out how they all equal the amount Erwin stated. The multiple types of coinage makes the mathematics obnoxiously difficult.

“Our clients.” Erwin sits beside Levi at the table, watching his student evaluate the money.

At no point has he ever possessed as much money as he holds right now. He calculates its worth in terms of meagre products like bread and tea, but finds the amount equals more small units than worth fathoming. For once, he must think bigger. “This—what can this buy me?”

“A nice overcoat. A few nights at an inn. A good helping of food, perhaps enough to feed the House for a meal.”

All of those sound amazing to the street cat. He’s never once stayed in an inn, nor worn anything cleaner than littered scraps of clothing. He could feed himself—and others—with what he holds.

“When do we go outside?” Levi continues, inspirited to see the value of this currency applied. “Every six days? When’s the next time?”

“Soon,” Erwin answers. “I’ll determine by then if you’ve earned the right to go outside.”

“Master!” a courtesan from downstairs calls. “We have a client.”

“Enjoy breakfast,” Erwin says before exiting.

Levi pours the coins back into the envelope, clutching the precious salary in possessive hands. Those around him have no interest in thievery, but he’s wary nonetheless.

After breakfast, he stays in the dining hall while most of his coworkers disappear to go court and flirt with any client they can find. Levi stacks empty plates and, when Titus sees him lingering, he’s allowed to come into the kitchen to help wash dishes.

The kitchen and storeroom takes up the other half of the first floor. There’s all the fittings of a lavish Victorian kitchen, plus an enormous pantry housing a wine cabinet, an icebox, and a spice rack. Titus shows him the stock of grains and vegetables they keep, along with smaller pleasures like tea leaves and sweets.

Levi puts a hand on the tea leaves right away, but Titus coaxes him off with a stern, “You need permission. Go ask the Master.”

Still, there is tea in the first place. Even if it’s locked up, Levi’s found another great wonder of this haven.

The main scullery is underneath the House, Titus explains, but there’s a smaller broom closet that’s adequately stocked. Levi rests eyes on an armoury of brooms and mops all beneath a shelf crammed full of soaps, waxes, polishes, and disinfectants.

So many supplies, yet the living quarters are ghastly. Levi vows to change that.

To his delight, the Master accepts his request to clean. The Master doesn’t give him a fresh set of clothes and instructs that he remain out of sight of the customers, but Levi doesn’t mind. He takes a brush and soap and starts his work in the washroom.

This is how the day passes. Levi finally rids the washroom’s corners of crusted grout, then scrubs the calcium from the baths’ faucets. He even chooses to scour the toilet bowl, repeatedly telling himself that this task is of absolute urgency.

He avoids the vanities in his room and focuses on the beds, dusting off the wooden frames whether his roommates want it or not. He washes the window and sweeps the floor, losing himself in the mindlessness of cleaning. It’s a welcome break for him.

Nobody bothers him while he works. He can hear their laughter and conversation beneath his feet, along with the voices of clients they must be trying to seduce. Erwin doesn’t come to check on him and his only company is the occasional passing courtesan that forgot something in their quarters.

In the late evening, some gentlemen return to start prepping for dinner. Others are still busy with clients, but whoever is available always arrives to assist. Levi, after hovering in the corner with a childish frown, is eventually offered a knife and is instructed to peel potatoes. He does so expertly, momentarily stunning the other chefs with his dexterity.

He eats with the others but without conversation. He washes dishes again and joins the migration to the quarters, his mind in a lull after the uneventful day.

Nighttime comes again. His mind is quieter, recovered from his first appointment and back to a neutral plane. In the silence of the sleeping House, he can think.

Nobody told him he had received another client today. Beast didn’t come back. Nothing is around to threaten him—not pain, nor terror, nor poverty. Life, admittedly, is rather content right now.

He’s free to worry about lesser details of life. Without his well-being on the line, smaller tiers on his hierarchy can be addressed. Pleasure being one of them.

Not only is he free to explore this in these safe walls, but the House teases the idea over and over again. He’s inundated with sexual themes daily, the worst usher of which being Master Erwin himself. The pleasure that he stirred itches in Levi’s mind, yearning to be scratched. He tried to satiate himself only to fail, and therefore came to the conclusion that only Master Erwin can help him.

Despite his hunger for exploration, his dignity still commands his thought process. He will not stoop to asking Erwin.

Erwin isn’t antsy to play with him, either. Erwin is busy with running the House and can hardly set aside time just for the fun of it. He did only twice, once to interview Levi and once to prepare him.

Preparation. That’s the sole reason Erwin will touch Levi again—he even said as much. He said he’d help the first few times until Levi could handle it himself.

Levi clearly can’t handle it himself. Erwin knows that. Once Levi gets another client, schedules another appointment, Erwin will make himself available to prepare Levi.

The plan is quite simple. He’ll do what he came to this House to do in the first place. This time, there’s more than just money on the other end.

Chapter Text

He does need a client, and soon, but there’s an immediate and pressing matter that takes his attention first.

It’s the Master’s unusually early arrival the next day, just as the first few courtesans rise from slumber. He’s greeting them and helping them select outfits for the other gentlemen. Nice outfits, ones appropriate for strangers on the street to see them in and not raise an eyebrow.

And as other boys rise, they come to Erwin with pleased smiles and take their clothes, already stirring conversations about where they want to go today. It’s the seventh day, and it’s time for those that are permitted to go outside.

Levi’s been awake and listening to the commotion, but he keeps his back turned and his head in his pillow. He’s unfamiliar with whatever procedure is going on behind him and he wants to gather information before trying to tackle it.

There’s no point. “Levi, I know you’re awake. Sit up.”

Erwin’s voice rumbles his mind and commands him to obey. He resists, curling in and clutching his pillow.

Jules knocks knuckles against the bedpost, startling their bunkmate. “C’mon! The others are getting ready to go out.”

That piques Levi’s interest. He turns his head, peering at Jules and at Erwin beyond. “Out?”

“That’s right,” Erwin says. “But I would like to speak with you. Sit up.”

Levi’s up before Erwin finishes the sentence, in fact standing with more gusto than usual. “I want to go out.”

“You’re not going to.” Erwin stabs Levi with that statement, crippling the hopeful child. “Jules, go get ready.”

Levi tsks as he watches the courtesans bustle around him. “Why not?” he snaps, fixing the belt of the thin robe he still wears.

“You’re still new.”

“So?” Levi steps closer, daring the Master to keep his gaze. “I’m settled in. I’ve had a client already. Let me go outside with the others.”

“It would be unfair to my gentlemen if I let someone as disobedient as you leave here.” Erwin holds the door open for his passing subordinates. “I’ve kept them inside for less.”

“You can’t stop me,” Levi snarls, jutting his chin up.

“No, I can’t. You’re welcome to leave.”

“Then—”

“But you’re not welcome to return. Leave without permission and you will not be allowed back inside.” Erwin doesn’t soften his words—only icy sentiments work against his opponent.

Levi scoffs, partially at Erwin and partially at the gleeful boys around him. His eyes burn with anger, but even more so, with envy. “Unbelievable,” he hisses. “You can’t trap me here.”

“I’m not. I’m only enforcing rules.”

Levi feels the envelope with his earnings call to him from under his mattress. Spend us, the coins beg. He wants to know the feeling of receiving goods the proper way.

“Come on,” he mutters, torn between insult and desperation. “I’ll go insane in here.”

Erwin does find a hint of reason in that. Levi’s an unusual case, one that hasn’t adapted as easily as others. Nonetheless, he doesn’t deserve unrestrained freedom just because he’s a little more difficult. Erwin will find a compromise.

“Gentlemen!” Erwin calls loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear. “I’ll be in the entrance hall. You’re not to leave the House until you check with me. Levi,” he speaks quieter to his subject. “Wash up and eat, then meet me downstairs.”

Levi snatches up that morsel of hope and runs with it. “Fine,” he shoots out, slamming a shoulder into the Master’s arm as he stomps by him.

In mere minutes, Levi has fixed his appearance and eaten one pastry before pattering down the stairs, the first of the courtesans to arrive. He passes through the entrance hall he snuck into a week ago, coming to the parlour that serves as the entryway to the House.

It’s furnished to look like an inn, even with a receptionist’s desk and a wall of faux room keys. Simple, unoccupied couches claim the space, blessed by the pleasant light of the overcast sky outside. Between the glowing windows is the immaculate set of doors that Levi had easily opened prior to meeting Erwin, which had been casually unlocked to his surprise.

Erwin waits beside them.

“Hey, I’m here.” Levi clutches his robe to keep it from billowing as he strides forward. “I can’t wear this out, though. I need some clothes—”

“Quiet. Let me speak.”

Levi’s jaw slams shut, only a flustered grunt slipping out from between his fused lips.

Erwin eyes him, his brow sunken with disappointment. “You still have not one ounce of respect for me. I don’t know where you got the brashness to believe you’re going outside.”

“You—you said to check with you before going out—”

“Quiet, Levi.”

Levi bites his tongue.

“I told the other men that. I instructed you to wash, eat, and meet me. If you had been listening properly, I wouldn’t need to explain it a second time as I’m doing now.”

Levi slides his eyes to the window and mentally curses the jackass of a Master.

“I’m already extending more gratitude than I should be. I don’t need it to be met with insolence.” He comes closer to his bratty child, always careful to remind either of them of his unfair height advantage. “The most I intended to give you was some time on the street outside, at least for some fresh air. I’m not so sure I want to grant even that anymore.”

The opportunity Erwin offers is visible just beyond the window pane; Levi can make out clattering carriages and scampering children, small bits of humanity dotting the cobblestone outside.

“Take a seat and wait until the other courtesans have gone out,” Erwin commands. “Once they’re through, I’ll determine if you’re deserving of the same.”

Huffing, Levi beelines to a distant couch with a good view of the window and staunchly perches himself on it, bringing his knees to his chest and clutching his own hand. Annoyedly obedient, he glares at the window to show off the coldest shoulder he can muster.

Erwin’s boys come to greet the Master, all dressed finely so nobody will be the wiser as to their profession. Levi listens to Erwin give each boy a different instruction, sometimes assigning subordinates to pairs or groups that they are not permitted to stray from. Few men are granted the privilege of going alone, and they’re clearly the most well-behaved of the group. Levi covets their freedom.

Many of his coworkers glance at him as they go, already stirring theories about how the lone cat is going to cope with this isolation. Jules wants to speak with him, but they’re expected to stay with Chester and thus they have to go when their partner zooms outside.

Some are going to the market. Some will visit family. Some will simply relish in the glory of being outdoors, perhaps finding a park or high hill to escape the smog of the city. Levi daydreams about an experience as simple as that one.

When the parlour is silent, Levi eyes the Master that stands in the open doorway. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Erwin—rather childishly—reflects his attitude.

Levi makes sure his eye-roll is quite noticeable. “Is it my turn?”

“It could be. Have you earned that?”

“I obeyed, didn’t I?”

Erwin won’t shoot that down. “Come here.”

Levi slips off the couch, a hand pinned to his robe’s hem. He focuses on Erwin as he nears him, hoping the next words out of that mouth are ones of permission.

“For today,” Erwin begins. “I’ll allow you just onto the street outside. I’m not comfortable with letting you go to the market or elsewhere.”

“I’m not a dog, Master. I don’t need to be fenced in to your front yard.”

“Have I not made my requirements clear? I don’t intend to budge simply because you’re not satisfied.”

Levi surrenders. “It’s clear.”

“Good.” Erwin frees the buttons of his frock coat. “Make sure the hem doesn’t drag on the ground.”

Levi stiffens as the Master’s coat is put on his shoulders, residual warmth kissing his skin. He becomes enveloped in the thick fabric, swaddled when lapels disproportionate to his body are blanketed over his chest.

“Believe me, you won’t make it far before a nobleman assumes you’re a thief. Nobody sensible wears one coat too big for them in public.”

“Great,” Levi mutters. “You’ve got the whole city on your side, too.” He could shed the garment, but that’d leave him absent of the warmth and stuck with only a skimpy robe left. Neither outfit is stylish, but one is far more preferable.

“Prove yourself, and I’ll give you more freedom next time.” Releasing his employee, Erwin holds the door open. “I’ll be in the parlour if you need anything.”

Steeling his nerves, Levi passes under the Master and across the threshold, pressing toes onto the cold, cobblestone steps of the Magnolia House.

The mid-autumn air is crisp, but Erwin’s coat does a fantastic job of shielding Levi. His feet sting and his nose is red in less than a minute, yet it’s still far better than the scraps of tossed fabric he used on gnawing winter nights. In his Master’s garment, he drifts onto the tiled street with keen eyes scanning the landscape.

The cold masks the smog in the air and the stench of ambiguous filth, but Levi can still discern the hints of manure, tar, and rot. It’s the same stink he’s lived in since he was born. Accustomed to the smell, he tries to take his attention away from the devastatingly familiar and explore his surroundings.

A collection of businesses surround the House, though not necessarily reputable ones. Many are crammed in a line of fused buildings and the House stands free of any siblings as an ominous, cylindrical pillar. Glancing back, Levi wonders where Erwin found the funds to construct a tower so unusual. Its architecture is gorgeous and visionary, but one could only gawk and guess at what exists inside. No sign outside, and hardly any activity or thoroughfare. Clients usually only enter once they’re sure the street is empty.

Levi can’t find any of his coworkers—they must’ve sprinted or caught a carriage as soon as they left. There are a few wandering strangers in the street, but it’s much quieter than the town centre Levi would frequent. These are the backstreets of the city, the place where thieves like Levi live and business owners like Erwin operate. Away from the public and away from the law.

The sound of laughter turns Levi’s attention to a distant corner, where a trio of cheery women walk gaily to a doorstep. He listens to one caution her mates about the cross landlord, making both promise to keep the noise level down come sunset lest the landlord discover she’s housing guests. They nod in agreement and creep inside, off to visit in their mate’s room.

That must be an apartment building. His first salary earned him several nights at an inn—it’s reasonable to assume something similar would pay for a flat. If he saved enough, he could easily secure a decent place for a month or so, which would give him time to find an actual job.

It’s not an immediate goal, but it’s a very tangible one. Just a few clients, a few salaries, and he’ll be set to leave the House and try again.

He silently congratulates the Master. If not for this damned House, he wouldn’t have been given a second chance at life.

Gratitude lingers in his heart, forcing in beside the disgust. He will move, just not yet. While he’s here, he’ll reap the full benefits and give back to the House that rescued him.

Tiny footsteps patter out of an alley, one child whispering to their sibling. Levi watches the tattered children skitter along, wondering what skills of the streets they’ve already been forced to acquire.

They spot Levi, and they gawk at the peculiarly-dressed man.

Levi scoffs back. Do they really have any room to judge? His clothing is strange, but it’s still nice.

They’ve slowed their pace, fascinated more than anything. To their credit, they haven’t seen a way of dress quite like Levi’s. They seem more amazed by his clothes’ quality than his style choices.

Levi can understand that. He’s stolen coats of this craftsmanship before and discovered they sold finely at tailors and pawnbrokers. This coat is quite fine, especially for the backstreets it exists in.

“Hey.” Before he can take a second to think it through, Levi calls out to the street rats. “C’mere.”

They don’t move. Fair enough, Levi concedes.

To demonstrate full passivity, Levi sheds the coat and lowers to his knees. He’d squat, but that’d assuredly expose his cock to the last demographic that should see it. “I don’t have any weapons. Come here. Come take a look at this coat.”

Intrigued, they approach, one already brandishing a switchblade. Levi sighs at the wicked weapon in the hands of a near-toddler.

“Look, it’s got silk revers. Quality wool, and not one rip.” Levi’s no seamstress, but he knows quality goods when he sees them. “If you keep it that way, a broker will pay well.”

One of them eyes Levi cautiously, the other scans the rooftops. The ex-vagrant recognises this necessary procedure. A random, grumpy-looking fellow offering free coats in a backstreet isn’t the most trustworthy sight.

“It’s seriously just me. Those roofs are too steep for anyone to hide on without us seeing. Your only blind spot is the alley behind you, but it’s a dead end that nobody would risk getting caught in. Any reasonable thief would have a second escape route.” Levi, the criminal master, reassures his followers by outwitting them. “Right? You guys do check your routes instead of just wandering through them, don’t you?”

“Obviously,” one kid mumbles, placating Levi.

“Good. Always be looking over your shoulder.” He extends the thick, folded coat. “Here. Wear it only if necessary—you’ll want to keep it as clean as possible. Get it sold, and you can buy three damn coats with the money. Think ahead, and remember this thing’s worth more than its immediate comfort.” While he’s here, he’ll try to teach them delayed gratification and monetary value, too. “You got that?”

“Sell it yourself,” the blade-wielding child suggests, or perhaps asks. Why don’t you sell it yourself?

“I don’t need to. Believe me, I can take care of myself.” Levi shoves the coat into the first empty hand he sees. “Don’t let it touch the ground, or it’ll be smeared in horse shit before you know it.”

“Can we have the dress, too?” one tries.

“No. And it’s a robe.”

“Why’re you wearing it?”

“Not your business. Now shoo, before I kick your asses.”

“…In a dress?”

“Scram.” Levi almost misses the days when he actually intimidated strangers. This ridiculous piece of cloth makes him look far weaker than he is. “I’ve done enough favours for you brats. Get lost, and don’t poke around here anymore.”

They cower back when Levi rises. He doesn’t feel mighty, standing before children in a tiny robe, but he’s hoping they at least take his advice to heart and earn a bit of cash. He tsks and turns his shoulder on them, marching back to the House.

Inside, he slams the door shut and rubs his feet on the parlour’s carpet, returning sensation to his soles.

Erwin looks up from his spot behind the fake service counter. “You’re back quick—I’m sorry, where is my coat?”

“In some kid’s hands.” Levi doesn’t give a damn. The comfort of some street orphans is tremendously more important than the Master’s orders.

“You had it stolen?”

“No, I gave it to them. Don’t worry, I made sure there was nothing identifiable on it. No broker will trace it back to the House, or you.”

“Levi, that was my possession.”

“Yeah, and now some kids are gonna survive another night because of it. Thank you for your donation.”

Erwin catches a glimpse of the little thieves darting away beyond the window, his garment in their hands. Sighing, he loses the urge to argue. “Head upstairs and wash your feet. I don’t need you catching a cold.”

Days pass. Levi was lulled by his brief time outside, and he resigns himself to staying upstairs while waiting for the next client to book him.

He cleans. He washes dishes. He bathes and wraps himself in the same robe he’s only laundered once. He sits in the stairwell and listens to banter from the main floor, occasionally peering from just out of sight to scope out clients.

None come. Erwin doesn’t enter one day with the news of a fresh customer drooling for Levi. He doesn’t summon the novice to undergo preparation and send him into one of the four rooms to service a horny animal.

It bothers him. He stays up late wondering where that mysticism about his innocence has gone. Can’t customers hear about him from courtesans and request him?

When more days pass and his irritation comes to a head, he chooses to leave breakfast first and taps down the staircase, tightening the belt of his robe. Before the lounge starts bubbling with activity, he beelines to Erwin’s office to get some answers out of the expert.

“Master.” Levi tosses the door open, grateful to spot the blond headmaster. “There’s—”

“Get out of my office.”

Levi’s startled back a step. “What?”

Erwin glares at the intruder through his brow. “You knock. You give your name. You request permission. Then you enter, if I allow it.”

“But—”

“Out, Levi. Try it again.”

His feet are already backpedalling even though his expression hates the motion. He slams the door shut, clenching the handle.

“Jackass,” he whispers to himself.

From the stairwell, more courtesans trickle into the main area, a few headed to the entrance hall. They definitely glance at the idling Levi, reigniting that horrible shame.

Swallowing, Levi raps knuckles against the door. “It’s…Levi. May I come in, Master?”

One second of silence. Two. Three. Four.

For pity’s sake, five. Six.

“Jack. Ass.” Levi grinds his teeth.

“You may come in.”

Levi flies inside and shuts the door without slamming it. “Thank you.”

“What do you need?” Erwin’s busy scripting a letter, his attention divided.

“A client. Another client. I mean—that’s what I’m here to do. I want another client.” Levi nears the desk, picking the words as he goes.

“That’s strange. I thought you detested this erotic world.”

“I might, but right now it’s what earns me money. I’m not getting paid if I’m not getting clients.”

Erwin lightly shrugs. “That much is true.”

“So I need more appointments.”

“Perhaps so.”

“...So? Can I get more?”

“You can, certainly.”

“Well—my god. May I get more appointments, Master?”

Erwin stops writing, rereading his paragraph. “That’s not what I mean, Levi.”

“Then what?”

“What, indeed? Do you think I stock appointments in my desk drawer to hand out when requested?”

“No, but you’d tell me when people request me. You told me about Beast—”

“Beast came to me because he saw you and wanted you. Nobody since him has wanted you.”

Levi frowns. That hurts more than it should. “Why don’t they?”

Erwin stations his pen and folds his hands, taking a moment to let the maturing flames die down. “What do my men do all day, Levi?”

“What?”

“How often are they in their quarters? Besides sleeping and eating, where are they?”

“They’re…on the main floor.”

“That’s right. They’re talking. Flirting. Making connections, lovers, partners, clients. They don’t spend their days cooped up in the upper floors scrubbing scum off toilet bowls.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I get it. I’m too shy for these fuckers; is that it?”

“You’re free to do what you’d like, but don’t be offended when the men that are putting in work are actually reaping the benefits.”

Crossing his arms, Levi throws a glance at the door. “What am I supposed to do? Drool on every pig out there until he wants to screw me? That’s—I have no idea how to do that.”

“Then find your style. Everybody has one.”

Levi already knows his style whether he embraces it or not. He’s the rookie, the naive boy that’s repulsed by sex. It’s a disgusting selling point, but there’s no room for pure intentions in this House anyways.

“I hate marketing myself. I don’t even know how to…have sex.”

“Oh, I know.” Erwin smiles to himself, cunning thoughts brewing in his head. Beast’s reminder rings in his head and he sees no better time to address it. “Then come with me. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

“What are you talking about?”

The Master rises. “You’re not refusing my orders, are you?”

Stifling a scoff, Levi shakes his head.

“Good. Follow.”

Levi trails behind the Master as he leaves the office and crosses to the Iris Lounge. Erwin greets a few gentlemen while descending into the conversation pit, smiling amiably as though there isn’t a sulking cat slinking behind him.

“Titus, I need your assistance.”

“Certainly. What is it?” Titus has been occupying himself with fixing the laces of Jules’ corset, suiting up the smaller courtesan that’s in the lap of a tipsy, grinning client.

“When you’re finished with Jules, I’d like you to teach Levi the proper way to perform oral sex.”

“What the fuck?!” Levi hisses, cringing at the idea.

“Gladly,” Titus answers. “Give me just a moment.”

“I’m not doing that.” Levi’s backpedalling, antsy to escape before anything can start. “I won’t—hey—”

Erwin’s hand in his hair leashes him in place. “You will. You’re not seeing another client until you learn how to pleasure them correctly.”

Levi, writhing in Erwin’s grasp, sweeps the lounge quickly to evaluate his audience. Three other courtesans and three clients, all watching the shy child. Amongst them is Kirk, who has already detached from his perch against the perimeter to assist the Master.

“I’d be happy to demonstrate first,” Kirk offers. “Titus has a good cock for practising deep-throating.”

“Disgusting.” Levi claws fingers into Erwin’s wrist, making sure to show absolutely no delight in anything sexual.

“Pardon him, gentlemen,” Erwin apologises to the watching clients. “He’s still finding his feet.”

“It’s not a problem,” the grinning client with Jules snickers. “He’s pretty cute when he’s embarrassed.”

“Master, I’m not going to—”

“You are. You’re useless to the House, and to me, if you don’t learn how to do this.” Erwin pushes Levi towards Titus, only for his submissive to gravitate right back to him.

“No,” Levi grumbles. “I’m not doing any of that unless I’m getting paid.”

Erwin can work around that. There is always a way to reframe the mindset of the stubborn courtesan. It will take a slight sacrifice on Erwin’s part, though the image of his strategy excites him more than it discourages him.

“Very well.” Erwin cups his sharp jaw and brings lips close to his ear, hiding his words from the others. “I’ll help you, then. You can perform oral sex on me. Think of it as preparation for a client.”

“That—” Levi’s stiff in Erwin’s hand, staring dumbly at the Master’s shoulder. He’s less resistant than he was a second ago. “It’s humiliating—”

“It’s good for you. You’ll learn, you’ll please me, and you’ll draw in clients. This has a purpose; I’m not just doing it to abase you.” Erwin combs through the inky hair as he speaks, petting his hesitant cat. “Show me your dedication. I want you to perform well for me.”

“F-fine.” A shudder runs down Levi’s spine, his composure withering away. “I’ll do it—for preparation.”

“That’s right.” Once Erwin has cemented a new mindset in his subject, there is no more room for protest. He sits, his feet spread and a hand running over his trousers. “Kneel, Levi.”

Levi does, trying to hide between Erwin’s calves uselessly. He smooths out his meagre robe and keeps his head down, still gathering as much decency as he can.

“I’ll handle him instead, Titus,” Erwin assures. “Fetch me a cigar, would you?”

Titus leaves with a nod, dismissing himself from Jules. He passes Kirk, who has begun prowling closer to the novice and his Master.

“So.” Kirk squats beside Levi, cocking his head and peering at the student from the other side of Erwin’s calf. “They like it when you undo their buttons yourself. It shows you really, really want their cock.”

“Shut up,” Levi growls, glowering at his unwanted coach.

“Be polite,” the Master instructs.

Frowning, Levi turns his attention to the crotch in his face and fidgets with the buttons. He mutters out a low, “Fine,” as he works a button free.

“You mean: Yes, Master,” Kirk corrects. “Have some respect, would you?”

Levi just shuts up instead, peeling down the fall front and working on the line of buttons underneath.

“You’re graceless.” Kirk searches for Levi’s eyes, disappointed to see them so angrily focused. “Be slow and seductive; look like you want it. Here—” He takes Levi’s hair and forces his head back, directing his eyes to Erwin’s. “Watch him as you take his cock out. Beg for him to let you pleasure him.”

“Gh—let go.” Levi winces, locked in frightening eye contact with his Master. Erwin’s stoic, appearing like a god that’s impossible to appease. He merely waits for his subject to entertain him. “I—this is stupid—”

“The more you complain, the longer this is going to take.” Kirk seems to be doing all the instructing; Erwin’s just a test dummy.

Levi doesn’t like it. He’d rather learn from Erwin.

Regardless, he digs through the fabrics of Erwin’s undergarments until he reaches the fleshy shaft, his fingers flinching at its touch. Withdrawing it, he swallows thickly at the sight of the cock he has only ever felt before. It’s staggering to witness, absolutely nothing like his own and surely capable of plenty more. He hasn’t even started and it’s already as stiff as stone for him.

“Suck,” Kirk instructs.

“I can’t,” Levi whispers, distressed by the mere sight.

“You can. Open your jaw and get your lips around it.” Kirk’s knifing Levi with his words, pushing the novice into a corner.

Erwin, who intended to resign himself to a position of an unobtrusive observer, can’t keep watching his reluctant pupil struggle like this. With a sigh, he rests a hand on Levi’s scalp.

“Kirk,” he begins. “We have customers that are being neglected because you’d rather taunt the boy. Prioritise them over his education.”

Kirk pauses, tonguing his canine as he processes the Master’s order. “Sure thing, Master.” With a quick pinch of Levi’s ear, he breathes a, “Have fun, Levi,” before rising and finding a client to entertain.

“There.” Erwin cards fingers through Levi’s hair, offering him comfort to get through his experience. “I’ll help you through it. Don’t worry about him.”

Levi grasps the base of Erwin’s cock, tempted to twist it right off. “Oh, now you care about what your henchmen say to me?”

“We’d have made no progress otherwise. I’m flattered; you can’t seem to get anything accomplished unless I alone hold your hand.”

“That isn’t true.”

“So you say.” To prove a point to himself, Erwin issues a command in hopes of receiving his desired result. “Suck, Levi. Show me what you can do.”

Lips are pressed against the tip almost instantly, even if they don’t know what to do next. Levi truly obeys nobody as resolutely as he does Erwin. A victorious grin slips onto Erwin’s face, one that his servant seems to despise.

“What?” the street cat hisses.

“You should be sucking, not speaking. Get to it.” The hand on Levi’s scalp drops to his jaw, a thumb wrenching the hinges open. “Don’t scrape your teeth on it. Close your lips around it and use your tongue.”

Levi braces a hand against Erwin’s thigh as his head is coaxed onto the cock, woefully adjusting to the feeling. To think that this thing has been in his asshole—and many others—sickens him to his core. It’s difficult to stomach the taste of the experienced member.

“That’s good—ah, don’t bite. Careful. Keep your jaw open.” Erwin rubs Levi’s cheekbone, gentle throughout the process. “You don’t need to get more inside your mouth yet. Work on the tip—do what you think would make me feel good.”

“Mm,” Levi grunts, pushing a tongue against the head. It’s tolerable, just manageable enough to avoid retreat. He glances up at Erwin, who smokes a cigar Titus has provided, and wishes the Master would give him some other instruction. He doesn’t know what feels good—it’s just a fleshy thing in his mouth. He doesn’t share its sensations.

“Movement, Levi. Move in and out. Coat it with your saliva.” Erwin sacrifices the lingering smoke in his mouth to give instructions.

Groaning, Levi shoves his tongue past his lower teeth and hugs it against Erwin’s cock, painting it as Erwin said. He lets the dick dip inside a bit further, then pulls back until the tip is at his lips. Then back in. It somewhat makes sense.

He closes his eyes and experiments, sluggishly bobbing his head and finding different places to run his tongue along. Erwin keeps a guiding hand on his head, which subtly protects him from the eyes around. The clients watch him, amused by the bumbling newbie.

“His first time?” one of them asks.

“Yes,” Erwin lies effortlessly. “I wouldn’t want to market him if he can’t even please valued customers.”

Levi huffs, but he doesn’t throw his head back and refute Erwin’s lie. He’ll let the Master say what’s necessary for profit.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Jules asks their client, kickstarting the ridicule that unfortunately advertises Levi.

“He is.” The client grins widely, stroking Jules’ back while they consume Levi’s indignation. “You ought to have him take more of you, Master Erwin.”

“In due time,” Erwin assures. “Levi, you must quit biting like that.”

“Nh.”

“And relax your grip. You’ve been squeezing the base as though you want to cut off my circulation.”

As Jules chuckles, Levi begrudgingly slackens his fingers and awkwardly strokes them along whatever doesn’t fit in his mouth.

“You pump it, Levi.” Jules snickers between sentences. “Not pet it.”

“Jules, you’re dismissed.” Erwin needs the courtesans elsewhere right now. He needs Levi to focus and he needs the clients to focus on just Levi.

Jules nods, bidding his client a mushy farewell and giving a, “Good luck with him, Master!” before slinking away.

Levi practises running his fist from Erwin’s pelvis to his own lips, trying to find the right amount of strength to hold it with. He has to be reminded to use his mouth, too, and he combines the two forces in a clumsy effort to stimulate Erwin.

“That’s better,” Erwin approves several minutes later. “Find a rhythm. I’ll want you to go deeper soon.”

“Nn-nn…”

“Yes. You can try doing so now before I force your head down.”

Clinging to his autonomy before it’s stripped away, Levi does just that. He grips Erwin’s thighs and pushes his head in, guiding the head through his oral cavity until it kisses the rear of his throat. His clogged airway stutters, failing to suck in air, and he immediately pulls back and inhales.

“You might want to fill your lungs before you go that far.” Erwin looks over his cigar before returning it to his lips.

Levi just shoves out a grunted, “Hn,” before trying again, taking Erwin’s advice into account. He braces for the feeling of suffocation as the cock corks up his throat again. This time, he’s rejected by his palate that gags to expel the parasite invading it.

“Nn—fuck,” Levi groans as he frees himself.

“Language.” Erwin grips his black locks and pulls his head in, returning the sleeve to his cock. “You’d be better off as a cocksucker so you don’t spill such filthy words.”

“Kh—” Levi can’t even whine before he’s choking again, stuck between Erwin’s hand and his dick. He squirms, clawing into Erwin’s thighs as tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

The client that Jules just abandoned is so jealously giddy he might burst. He wishes that the thrashing animal was choking on him instead. “Amazing, Master Erwin. How long do you think he can stay there?”

Erwin keeps his hand firm, disinterested in releasing Levi anytime soon. He takes a thoughtful puff of his cigar, enjoying the feast and the show simultaneously. “As long as I’d like,” he murmurs, smoke fogging his cheeks.

Levi’s lungs burn, contracting in his chest as nothing enters them. He pushes against Erwin’s palm, his face a reddened mess, as he slams fists against the Master’s thighs. It’s unbearable. One more second, and he just might close his jaw—

“Gah!” Levi cries as he’s freed, his head flung off the cock. Swallowing down gulps of air, he clenches Erwin’s trousers with half the mind to punch him right in the jaw. “Damn you—”

Erwin presses his lips to Levi’s forehead, silencing the irate cat. “Good work,” he praises as he straightens up. “You persevered very well.”

Levi is quiet as Erwin strokes his hair, unable to return his kindness with scathing anger. He wipes his lips with the flat of his hand and clears his throat, out of arguments to spew.

“Now keep going. We’re not done until I orgasm.”

Levi should’ve expected that. Bottling up complaints, he resumes his work with a clear goal in mind. As he recalls how Beast fisted his own cock or how Erwin pounded into him, he emulates the motions with his lips and hands.

While he works, Erwin savours his cigar and watches the interested client out of the corner of his eye. This fish will be caught on the hook, easily.

“Fast learner,” Erwin strategically praises. “You’ll be ready to service clients soon.”

“That so?” the stupid fish asks. “Is he available?”

“He is. I can have him ready by tomorrow, if that suits you.” Erwin does not ask whether or not he’s interested—he simply moves on to the next step of booking. He’s mastered this process of manipulative negotiation.

“Oh, sure, sure.” The client hunches forward, watching Levi’s bobbing profile. “I want him for—”

“An hour is sufficient. He’ll run for twice the price as Jules.” Backing a customer into a corner comes to him as effortlessly as smoking does.

“Twice? He’s a novice. Why double the price for a novice?”

“Come, now.” Erwin tears Levi’s head back, upturning his face so the light can expose his weary, timid expression. “That naivety is beautiful, no? He embodies it better than anyone here.”

“Hey—let go—”

The Master brings his submissive back to his task.

“And for the client that’s booked Jules over a dozen times, I know you prefer the boyish types.”

“Well—”

“Besides, he’s phenomenal. I couldn’t even tell you how he carved his body into that impressive physique, and there’s not a blemish anywhere on his skin. His face is sharp and symmetrical—it forms the most exquisite expressions if you can elicit them from him. I’m not giving away beauty like his for a low price.”

Between Erwin’s thighs, Levi shudders under the weight of such heavy praise. It’s merely words to manipulate a client, but it’s astounding to hear Erwin pick apart every attribute of his body and scream how glorious they are. Levi doesn’t think much about his features and Erwin highlighting them momentarily locks up his self-control.

He’s flattered, even if it’s a lie that he’s falling for.

“I will charge more for him. You are fortunate you even have the chance to play with him.”

Levi chokes on Erwin’s cock, forgetting his task—and his need to breathe—upon hearing such a stern argument. That doesn’t feel like a lie. It must not be one, right?

“What time is ideal for you?” Erwin concludes as though he didn’t just berate a client for undervaluing his submissive.

“The…afternoon.” Regardless, the fish still wants the bait. If anything, it’s been further convinced by Erwin’s passion.

Levi learns how to be a cocksleeve as the Master negotiates a time and payment with his next client. They settle on two in the afternoon the following day and the client ends up paying upfront, cash placed right into Erwin’s waiting hand.

And, like the client is another bitch at Erwin’s beck and call, the Master dismisses him. He saunters away, distracted from the bitter Master by some other courtesan that wants to flirt him out of more money. Erwin’s semi-alone with his submissive now, able to help the boy help him.

“Is your jaw sore?” Erwin asks, feeling the space beside Levi’s ear. When the busy head shakes side to side, Erwin grins. “Good. You weren’t lying about your stamina. Now keep going, and work on increasing your speed. Keep pushing it into your throat.”

Levi whines before he willingly deepthroats, taking in as much of the shaft as he can. The entire length still hasn’t buried in his lips, Erwin’s size too big for him to take. He keeps bobbing from there, his mouth drenched in saliva that paints his Master’s cock. It’s sloppy and quite gross, but feeling the cock twitch against his tongue means he must be doing something.

“That’s right,” Erwin husks, lust creeping into his voice. His body has slumped back against the couch, lazy and lost in his pet’s work. “Just like that, Levi. Just like that.”

Erwin’s words make him work faster. Making the Master proud motivates him more than he wants to admit, and he elects to blame his fervour on just trying to get the job done. He sucks as Erwin smokes, focused on absolutely nothing but bringing the Master to orgasm. The cock squelches in his throat, Levi taking no time to swallow and letting saliva pool in his mouth and dribble past his lips.

He brings both hands to help him, pumping the shaft and sucking the tip. Erwin’s tight grip on his hair suggests he’s reaching the peak and Levi has to throw his eyes up to watch the Master’s expression crack as lust overwhelms him. Erwin’s brow knots, set in an expression of stern pleasure as he hisses out smoke.

“I’m close,” he announces. “And you will swallow it. Every drop.”

Levi whines at the thought, stunned to think Erwin would just let Levi consume his soul like that. Isn’t it precious? Will something happen to Erwin if someone else ingests an essential part of him? The truth eludes him.

Levi doesn’t expect the human soul to taste bitter, but that’s the first flavour that hits the back of his throat when Erwin orgasms. He recognises a hint of the smell from Beast’s decoration, experiencing it further with the metallic tartness coating his mouth. Erwin exhales gruffly, his hand making sure Levi doesn’t retreat as he dispenses himself.

“Hah—nn…” Levi whines once he’s free, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Swallow.” Erwin braces his elbows on his knees, getting close to the enticing display. “I don’t want to see any of it in your mouth.”

Levi forces down the fluid several times, stopped only when Erwin jerks a thumb inside to peel open his jaw and check his cavity. “Ah,” he breathes, showing his clean tongue to the Master.

“Good. I’m very proud of you.” Erwin palms his ribcage, coaxing him to his feet. “Get up. You’re finished for today.”

Levi rises unsteadily, his legs tingling as sensation returns to them. “Gross,” he mutters, pulling down his robe.

“You heard our conversation, yes? Your appointment is at two.”

“I know.”

“I expect you in this lounge at one, an hour before. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

Levi did it. He’s scheduled another appointment, and thus another session of preparation with Erwin. It’s another chance to experiment, to figure out what pleasure is supposed to be.

“Good. You’re dismissed. Get some rest.”

Chapter Text

Levi gets three full hours of sleep that night. He’s up early and starts the day with a thorough bath followed by a small breakfast. He’s in the mood to eat and listen to the chatter around him, but he doesn’t join their usual journey to the lounge right after. He got his client; he doesn’t need another one right now.

So when his scheduled time comes, he finally emerges from the coop and slinks into the Iris Lounge, automatically ignoring everybody but Erwin.

The Master is sitting confidently at a couch, an azure piece of clothing at his side. He’s speaking with other gentlemen as Levi approaches, conducting his charismatic business as usual.

“Master,” Levi mumbles.

Erwin pauses a bantering customer with an open palm. “Levi,” he greets, prioritising the novice above all else. “I’m sure you know what comes now, yes?”

“Yes, I do.” Levi feels the small crowd around him, the presence of others like radiation to his heart. “I’ll go to your office—”

“No, we’ll prepare here.” Erwin picks up the blue fabric. “Shed your robe and change into this.”

Out here, Levi’s shy. He can’t lose focus and moan like he can when it’s just him and Erwin. Eyes beyond Erwin’s are too many eyes.

“Master,” he breathes. “Your office is—”

“You’re a courtesan, Levi. Act like one and take pride in your sexuality.”

Unable to win, Levi takes the clothing as he loosens his robe’s belt. With the Master’s words imprinted in his mind, he shelves any defence of his dignity and makes himself nude before throwing the gown onto his frame.

It’s a blue chiffon gown that’s shapeless and loose on Levi’s shoulders. It doesn’t flatter his body, almost an insult to his beauty by hiding his natural wonder.

“You look perfect,” Erwin praises. “Your client bought that for you. Make sure you thank him.”

Levi sighs as he tugs the short hem down his thigh. “I will, Master.”

“Good.” Erwin takes up that precious vial holding the fluid Levi couldn’t replicate. “Over my knee.”

Levi swallows, smoothing his dress over his ass. “That’s—out here, though. It’s—”

“Stop stalling. You’re not getting out of this by complaining.”

One look at Erwin’s unmovable face coaxes Levi to shut up and give in. With his chin tucked and his eyes down, Levi places himself over Erwin’s knee with his face already hidden in his calf.

The dress is flung back, dripping down Levi’s shoulder blades until its hem drops around his head, enclosing his upper half in an translucent curtain. It hides his face from the lounge, turning him into an anonymous ass for Erwin to work on.

It’s the best he’ll get. Shutting his eyes, he smothers humility and focuses on Erwin’s touch.

The Master squeezes his asscheeks, digging fingers into their fat and pulling them apart. He warms up the muscles, clenching until they’re throbbing and tender before moving on to the entrance.

His fingertip is wet again when it touches Levi. This fluid must be magical: it wins against the resistance of his ring and permits a digit to enter. Levi memorises the method in which one fingertip slips inside, then back out, then circles the rim with adequate pressure. In again, a bit deeper, and a slow thrusting motion starts. It’s careful and focused on the rim, training the muscles to adapt even as they tighten with delight.

This part is good. It readies Levi’s mind, giving him doses of pleasure before heavier action starts. Hugging Erwin’s calf, he registers every motion as positive and agrees to submit to the corporeal pleasure.

Two fingers slip in, scissoring the entrance. It’s a step up, but the Master takes his time with the process. He’s already resumed conversation with others while fingering, his voice vibrating through his lap. Levi’s being somewhat ignored, but it lets him focus on the sensation anyway.

The two fingers stay shallow, too. They spread the rim and the area just inside before teasing the outer edge. Levi relaxes into the feeling, offering himself for Erwin to penetrate more.

Erwin plunges deeper but not enough to hilt. He curls and scissors, touching the landmines inside Levi that skyrocket his pleasure. Levi instinctively nods as a gem is pressed, warmth beaming in his stomach. Pressure starts building one drop at a time.

This continues for half a minute as Levi twitches and spasms with each acute sensation, revelling in sexual joy. His ass is perked up subconsciously, screaming for heavier pleasure that it knows Erwin can provide.

Erwin pulls out and squeezes an asscheek. “You’re ready, Levi.”

Levi gasps, clenching the calf. He’s not done already, is he?

“Up. Your client is waiting.”

Levi shoots up, his face a hot flush as the dress drops to cover his body. Clinging to Erwin, he struggles to stop the desperate, “Already?” as his eyes plead with the Master.

“Yes. You’re adequately prepared. Your client is waiting in—”

“But—” Levi winces, his composure withering as he scrambles to bring the feeling back. Hiding from the others, he inches close to Erwin’s ear and prays nobody is watching him. “You…you were more thorough last time.”

“Hm?” Erwin says audibly. “I was more thorough the last time I fingered you?”

“Shut up!” Levi whispers, shoving his glowing face into Erwin’s shoulder.

“Maybe I was.” Erwin takes note of the chuckling faces watching his shy boy. Levi’s fantastic at drawing a crowd. “Nevertheless, I’ve given you enough preparation. If you want more, you’ll have to ask for it.”

“Beg for it,” a listening client suggests.

“But—Master—”

“Save it for another time.” Erwin cups Levi’s cheek, consoling the distraught submissive. “Go tend to your client. He’s in the Lavender Room.”

“…Fine.” Levi wishes Erwin just had a smidge less stubbornness. It’s challenging to wage war on a mirror.

He marches away, his throbbing cock wondering where its stimulation has gone.

Erwin, remaining in the lounge, forgets about everything else as he watches his submissive leave. He’s been caught off-guard again and he needs to collect his thoughts. Re-evaluate Levi. That must be done elsewhere, though, and not in the presence of his customers and followers.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he mechanically utters as he swipes up the vial and Levi’s robe. He leaves, his footfalls quicker than usual as they take him to his office, the one room with absolute privacy.

Shutting himself inside, he drops his composed expression and exhales. He can’t wrap his head around what he just witnessed. Levi, the stubborn, sex-repulsed child, begging him for more pleasure. The thought seems inconceivable.

Since, Erwin thinks as he paces to his desk, it would imply that Levi wants pleasure—that he’s seeking it out independently of his service as a courtesan. Sure, his cock got hard last time, but that’s basic biology as a result of Erwin’s actions. This time, his lips spoke his mind’s desire, offering more lustful truth than his cock would convey.

Erwin sits rigidly as he reaches his wanted conclusion. Levi craves more and he craves it from Erwin. It’s arrogant and presumptuous, but Erwin refuses to think Levi intends to ask clients to finger him the same way.

Would he? Probably not. Erwin can’t be too sure of what happens in the rooms.

Either way, Levi’s given some trust to Erwin with the way he begged. Master leaves his lips effortlessly now, and he’s not above crumbling into a grovelling animal for Erwin’s touch. Remembering this boosts Erwin’s ego.

He congratulates himself for remaining calm when Levi whined words of desperation into his ear. The hairs on the back of his neck are still erect, but his expression didn’t crack and his gasp was smothered. His wit saved him, even when his heart was jackhammering in his chest and his cock suffocated in his drawers.

He echoes Levi’s plight. He, too, needs more. He needs that pale body to quiver and twitch under his hands, those small lips to gasp and moan and cry for more pleasure. Levi is addicting, making Erwin discipline himself against taking the boy’s body again and again. He wants the courtesan more than any client that enters.

Besides first meeting his subordinates, he rarely plays with them beyond that. He would prepare newer workers as he did with Levi, or perhaps demonstrate a better technique for some sexual act, but he never played merely for pleasure of both parties. He has a House to run and they have their duties. He establishes a relationship of power and protection with the others, one that’s strict but rarely intimate. There’s control, yet little sexual dominance.

Would he be crass for seeking Levi again? He’s already demolished the virgin and put him on the market, so it’s not a matter of keeping his record clean. It’s more so a risk of exposure, of Erwin revealing his own lust-riddled hunger that he disguises under his work.

He’d look no better than the animal if he, too, begged for the animal. Nevertheless, the urge viciously consumes him. Erwin cannot remember the last time lust has conquered his rationality like this.

Erwin does not receive an audience with Levi after his appointment. The day ends without a glimpse of Levi and Erwin returns home after hearing from one of his men that Levi is already in bed. Jules is with him and there’s no need to fret.

The next day, the Master spots Levi in the blue dress darting into the Iris Lounge. From an apt distance, he observes as Levi grumpily greets other courtesans and wholly ignores clients. Russell enters, Levi snaps at him, and the taller Dominant takes him by the nape and forces him to sit down, telling him to “behave” or something to that effect.

Levi scowls and shakes his head until other courtesans laugh at him. They ask the clients around them questions, and the clients are giving perverted, drooling answers in response.

It’s a routine now. Levi’s coworkers bully him into becoming a maddened mess so that spectators grow giddy and riled at the sight. He accepts the harassment, wallowing in shame to embrace his diffident, resistant character. Within a few minutes, Levi is fiercely pointing a finger at Erwin’s office while his jaw is stuck in the grasp of a power-hungry aristocrat that wants his body.

And as the aristocrat leaves the lounge and drifts towards the office, a wry smile on his lips, Erwin reminds himself of his duties and catches up with the client. While making arrangements for an appointment, he stands amazed at Levi’s early amassment of customers. Especially starting out, no courtesan has easily swiped up appointments as swiftly as he has.

He really is a natural, and he probably doesn’t realise it.

With an appointment set the following day at four in the afternoon, Erwin decides to mastermind a plan around the commitment. He’ll try Levi again—he’ll tap into that lust and see if it is his for the taking.

Before leaving for the night, Erwin gives Levi a designated time to meet in his office the following day. Preparation is needed, as always.

And Levi is there, in fact early, kneeling in that blue dress while staring resolutely at the door. His presence almost surprises Erwin when the Master returns to the office after midday, as Erwin has come to expect a little more disobedience from the brat.

“Good afternoon,” Erwin rumbles as he locks the door. “You’re quite excited for another client, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you so dutiful.”

“I hate clients,” Levi snaps.

There’s that attitude. Erwin was worried it had left for good.

“Yet you’re kneeling flawlessly five minutes early, presenting yourself for me so you can go please a client.” Erwin passes the submissive and sits at his desk, finding the vial that’s already half-empty. He reminds himself to refill it.

“It’s not like that,” Levi refuses. “I don’t care about the damn clients.”

“What do you care about, then?”

Levi doesn’t answer.

No need to hurry, Erwin tells himself. The answer will be given soon enough.

“Your appointment is at three,” Erwin lies. “I’ll prepare you as I see fit. Get up.”

Levi rises without a word, flipping around to face his Master.

It’s quiet for a moment, Erwin revelling in Levi’s startling obedience and Levi wondering what the hell he’s waiting for.

“Strip,” Erwin orders, remembering that he’s in charge of this man.

Levi takes the dress off too easily. Maybe he would’ve been slower in the Iris Lounge, but the privacy reduces his hesitance. Erwin’s presence must not draw shame out of him anymore.

“On my desk. Lay on your back, your hips to me.”

Levi doesn’t scramble up there like he had for their first encounter. He climbs up one knee at a time, his cock free and exposed as he finds his position. Lying back, he drops his legs off the edge until Erwin shakes his head.

“Hold either thigh, and spread them.”

Levi pauses, detesting the command. A splayed position like that is utterly shameful, even stronger than the calluses Levi has grown towards humility. He crosses his ankles and perches on his elbows, glaring at his Master. “That’s…ridiculous.”

Erwin shifts back in his seat, getting comfortable. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Levi huffs, rolls his eyes, mutters curses, and fidgets on the countertop as if stalling will change Erwin’s mind. It doesn’t, and after a few more moments of pouting Levi pulls his thighs up to his chest with his head thrown aside, a crimson tint on his cheeks.

“I said to spread them.”

Scoffing, Levi unlocks his calves and creates a gap a few inches wide.

“Wider.”

“You’re a damn pervert,” Levi grumbles as his legs make a shy M.

“I’m doing my job.” Erwin has the vial ready to go, glazing his fingertips with lubricant. “Put your head back if you don’t want to watch.”

Levi does, staring at the ceiling as his entrance is explored yet again.

Erwin’s fascinated by the progress made. Levi’s body takes him willingly, as relaxed as it can be and allowing him to slip fingers in with little issue. It’s still firm and tight, just as fresh as when they met, and it needs the same amount of preparation. Erwin has no issue with that—he takes his time warming up the muscles and gaining the physical trust of the body.

He watches Levi twitch when pleasurable areas are discovered and he feels the tension grow as his rhythm starts. Levi’s doing his best to remain still and appear unbothered, but he’s always had the most expressive, telling body. Erwin might make him describe his wants more often if his actions weren’t already so damn obvious.

For instance, Levi tightens his grasp on his thighs when Erwin thrusts deeper than last time, so he’s clearly overjoyed that he’s receiving more than the bare minimum. He’s already curled in his lower lip to chew on it, meaning he must be reaching the point of moaning. He’ll try to hold it in again to prove a point absolutely nobody is interested in believing.

Erwin chose this position for a reason: he has to see the reaction he’s eliciting in Levi’s cock. The shaft is already hard, a proportional rod against Levi’s stomach that drips the first of its precome. Erwin’s pleased; he’ll make use of it soon.

As his fingers move mechanically, Erwin coasts a free hand over the fat of Levi’s thigh, his thumb tracing along deep veins. The skin is unblemished and fair, a pearl that glimmers amongst the streets it must’ve originated from. Without thinking, Erwin dips down and presses his lips to the porcelain beauty, worshipping the greatest splendour life has given him.

Levi’s warm in this spot, a contrast from his freezing fingertips. Erwin rests a cheekbone against his quivering thigh, feeling its vibrations and heat as his fingers stimulate Levi’s body. “Perfect,” he murmurs before kissing, sucking the skin and pinching it between his teeth.

“Nn—hah!”

Good, Levi’s snapping. Erwin would continue the action if there wasn’t such a high risk of leaving a mark. Clients accept marked up courtesans, but Erwin humbly reduces the price if his products are tainted without disclosure.

He shifts higher up on the thigh, brutally curbing the amount of love he can give to the blank canvas. He can only wet the skin and scrape his teeth against it before his fear wins, and he retreats.

His fingers haven’t slowed, three of them burrowing inside Levi’s cavity. Above them, Levi’s cock has been woefully neglected.

For days, at least. Maybe weeks, maybe years. Maybe a lifetime.

Erwin wraps fingers around its base, its tip barely extending beyond his grasp.

“That—!” Levi gasps, taken aback by the new sensation. His jaw is agape as fresh adrenaline rushes down his body, his thighs tensing up and gravitating together.

“Spread, Levi. I’m not done with you.”

“B-but—” Levi stutters as he opens up again. “It’s—that’s my—”

“Your cock? Yes, it is. Do you think I don’t know that?”

Erwin’s amused by the scoffing moan that follows, a grunt of annoyance and pleasure. He rubs his fist up the length of Levi’s cock, swallowing the tip. It coats his palm in a slick he uses to make his rhythmic pumping smoother.

“Oh!” Levi cries, his head lolling back as the combined forces dump rhapsodic pleasure into his nerves. His body rocks gently on the desktop as Erwin’s hands manipulate him, pulling every exact string to escalate his exhilaration.

So malleable, Erwin thinks. Why does he try to maintain dignity at all if he becomes so debauched?

“Well,” the Master murmurs, watching his boy’s cock twitch in his hand. “You wanted more, didn’t you? Is this thorough enough for you?”

Levi churns out a petulant whine, wishing he could just take the pleasure without the taunting. “It—it’s good.”

“I take the time to give you more attention, and all I receive is a mumbled good?” Erwin grins at the frightened, clingy ass clenching around his hand. “I expect more in return for spoiling you rotten.”

“I’m—nn—grateful. Thank you, Master.” Levi’s simply saying whatever’s necessary to keep the lovely sensations going.

Erwin realises that, but he remains patient. He’ll draw true feelings out of his submissive soon.

“Have you ever had your cock stimulated like this?”

“N-no—mm-mm…”

“Life is cruel to deprive you of that indulgence. At the very least, I’m glad I’m able to provide for you now.” Erwin rises to his feet, coming into Levi’s vision. He keeps pumping, keeps fingering. He moves at a delicate pace befitting the novice. “That is why you came to me. You know nobody will handle your pleasure better than your Master.”

Levi has his temple nailed to the desktop, his eyes screwed shut. “That’s—ah—not true…”

Yes, he will deny it. For the money, Levi would say. For the food, protection, and effortless life safe from the wicked streets. That is why he came to Erwin. If pushed, though, he couldn’t deny that this bonus of magnificent pleasure is quite welcome.

He must enjoy this. Erwin’s delighted to prove it.

“Do something for me, Levi.”

“Nn…”

“There’s a clock on the wall to your right. Read me the time.”

Levi’s eyelids fly open and his neck cranks back, quick to obey. As he’s fingered, he finds the mounted clock and calculates the time, using his faint knowledge of chiming bells and glowing clock towers.

“Hah—th-three—just after three—oh—nn!”

“Just after three? Oh, dear.” Erwin prays his theory is true as he issues the impetus. “You’re late for your appointment.”

Levi’s fingers dig into his thighs and his moans stop, even though Erwin doesn’t. “That’s—that’s not fair. You’ve been—how would I have known—”

“I’m not upset,” Erwin assuages. “I’m just informing you. I’m quite happy with working on you, but we’ll stop if you need to attend the appointment.”

“Oh, god,” Levi groans, succumbing to another rush of pleasure. “But—it’s…I want…”

“What do you want?” Erwin tenses at his own question, strangely afraid of the answer.

“M-Master,” Levi breathes, his lips parted with no further words to grace them. His body trembles, closing in around Erwin’s fingers. He doesn’t drop his legs or make any effort to get up.

Is that the answer? He wants Master?

Erwin tells himself he’s being too greedily presumptuous.

“Make your choice, Levi. You have a client waiting.” Cruelly, he speeds up a notch with his words, advertising the option he wants Levi to pick.

“Hn—hah!” Levi moans, quivering with excitement. “Master—Master!”

Is he begging his god to give the answer for him? Does he lack that much agency in this state?

“Do you want me to continue?” Erwin inquires, his level tone blemished with anticipation. “Yes, or no. Just give me one word.”

Levi grimaces, glaring at the clock as tension interrupts his pleasure. He can’t think straight, not with this inundation of glory distracting him. His jaw opens as words tangle in his mouth, his mind racing to decide. Pressure must be building in his body and he’s not ready to cease the stimulation yet.

Giving in, he slams his eyes shut and cries out his declaration. “Yes, Master. Please.”

Erwin shouldn’t praise him but the words are already pouring out. “Good boy, Levi. You’d choose your Master over everyone else, wouldn’t you?”

Levi’s delirious and confused, only giving a weak, “Y-yes,” as he sinks back into the sensual puddle.

Perhaps another automated response. It’s no matter to Erwin; he’s received what he wanted. Levi’s confirmation, Levi’s priority of him over a client.

Thus, over money, over the entire reason he came here. Levi has forgone his goal in favour of the pleasure Erwin is giving him.

What a compliment. Erwin’s alive with boyish glee.

Levi’s cock is slick in his pumping hand, needy and excited to finish. Erwin, directing his attention back to his allotment of Levi’s pleasure, watches the shaft and estimates a safe speed to keep it just excited enough. Any faster and the maiden boy will orgasm without warning.

Though, his groans are quieter as if laced with regret. He wants this, yet the sacrifice he made for it is gnawing at his mind. He’s not in a position to blithely enjoy the stimulation anymore.

Erwin has one achievement left, and that’s ownership of Levi’s first orgasm. He won’t waste it, as he had with the boy’s first kiss or his virginity. In this state, where his submissive is lingering in doubt, the feast isn’t perfect. It’s not ready for consumption.

Soon, Erwin mentally promises to the trembling cat before speaking.

“You’ve made me proud, Levi.” He opens his fist with the cock in it, freeing the shaft from its sleeve. Bracing his wet palm against Levi’s thigh, he gently works his soaked fingers out of the startled body. “I won’t forget this.”

“Wait—what’re you—” Levi’s hips buck up as the fingers exit, his head thrown up to show an expression wrought with shock.

“You’re far from earning an orgasm right now. In time, I’ll reconsider and—” Erwin grunts when small heels zoom around his waist and slam into his back, reeling him closer to the desk.

“You—” Levi’s sitting up, his iron fists snatching up Erwin’s lapel. “You’re horrible.”

“Horrible?” Erwin balances his temper as his head is yanked close to Levi’s murderous expression. “How so?”

“I gave up a client for this!” Levi snarls. “You—and now you’re going to deny me—”

“Yes, that’s right.” Erwin allows his body to be ensnared and jostled, his hands remaining passively on Levi’s thighs. “Does that make me horrible?”

“Keep—keep going.” Levi grasps Erwin’s wrist and shoves the limp hand against his cock, insisting it get back to work. “I was close—”

Erwin merely takes the sagging hem of Levi’s dress and drapes it over the neglected cock. “I know.”

“Jackass.” Levi’s grip is tighter, charged by indignant exasperation. “You can’t give me one fucking mercy, can you?”

The primal part of Erwin’s mind is obsessed with this creature’s desperation, quick to forgive his language and aggression purely to keep watching the show. A ravenous craving for pleasure is rare in this sanctuary where everyone has grown familiar with the feeling.

“This is wonderful, Levi. I’m pleased to see you so needy.”

“Excuse me?” Levi gnarls.

“I know it’s harsh to end now.” Erwin’s captured hand hugs its captor’s wrist, rubbing a thumb over strained tendons. “But the time isn’t right. I don’t want you tense during something that is meant to be pleasurable.”

“That—that’s fucking stupid.” Levi squeezes Erwin’s wrist, only for it to mirror his strength. “I lost a damn client just for denial? You prick—you made me sacrifice a salary for nothing.”

“Not for nothing.” Erwin takes the hand on his lapel too, coaxing it off his body. “You’ve shown me what you’ll do for pleasure. We’ve both learned the extent of your lust. Intriguing, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a fucking experiment—this isn’t something to toy around with—”

“Good. I’m glad you take it so seriously.” Erwin hardens his grip when Levi tries tearing out of it. “I would have gladly paid your salary’s worth to learn more about your wants.”

Levi quits his flailing and locks up his muscles. “Then reimburse me for wasting my time.”

Erwin shakes his head. “No need. We’ll get you cleaned up for your appointment. You’ll earn your salary the proper way.”

“What—by showing up late? That’s a shitty look.”

“No.” Erwin glances at the clock, noting how much time they have left. “Your appointment is at four.”

“What?” Levi’s hands drop in his lap when Erwin frees them. “But you said it was—”

“I lied.” Erwin takes a handkerchief to his palms, rubbing glazed slick from his skin.

Levi’s about to boil over, insulted and degraded into a frenzied rage. He shoves Erwin aside and leaps off the desk, distancing himself from his enemy. “For fuck’s sake—am I just a thing to manipulate to you? Some daft animal for you to torture?”

“Not at all.” Erwin sinks back into his seat, finding unanswered letters to answer in his drawer. “You’re precious, Levi. I intend to be methodical with your pleasure.”

“So what? You don’t need to lie to me and taunt me—that’s not fucking necessary.”

“What shall I do instead? Ask if you want pleasure directly?” Blue eyes glance up, peering at their submissive gem. “Do you think your pride would allow you to answer that honestly?”

Levi doesn’t have a good answer for that. He irately fixes his dress’s strap and throws his glare to the side. “Why does it even matter? I’m just here for work like everyone else. Why even do this to me?”

“As I said, you’re precious.” Erwin has never felt his heart speak louder. “I find you quite beautiful.”

Levi’s surprise reads as irritation. “You’re lying. Again.”

“Why would I lie? I truly do think you’re beautiful—”

“No, you don’t. You’ve got a dozen beautiful boys out there if you want to have fun. You just fuck with me because I’m inexperienced—that’s it.”

Erwin—to his own detriment—understands Levi’s doubt far too easily. It’s not hard to label the Master as a cunning predator—less than a minute ago he declared how freely he manipulated the boy for the sake of information. Of course Levi won’t believe him now.

The fault lies not in Levi, but in Erwin’s conceit. The Master has done nothing to instil confidence in the courtesan beyond preying upon him frequently and subjugating him for the sake of confirming concupiscent theories. He adores the body and soul that has been given to him, yet any attempt to express that is smothered underneath the actions he’s done to exploit it.

Levi does not believe in his own beauty. He never will if he’s treated so flippantly by the Master.

“I’m sorry I’ve done nothing to assure you.” Erwin can’t even think about returning to his paperwork. That heavy guilt creeps back into his heart, a sickening reminder of how his lust mixes with his stoicism to benefit nobody but himself. “I know there is more to you than your naivety.”

“Quit fucking with me,” Levi mutters, pained by the unreliability of Erwin’s declarations. “I’m sick of being taunted like this.”

Erwin’s eyes lower. Self-loathing surfaces to override his guilt, since he’s convincing himself he has no right to play the role of a woeful superior. His lust has controlled his actions more than his mind and he sees the imprint he’s left on the spotless soul of Levi. He, yet again, has failed to respect the angel under his control.

“I respect you, Levi,” he declares to the courtesan and himself. “Though I don’t expect you to believe that right now. I can only hope to prove it in time.”

Levi doesn’t want to lash out at that pitiful promise. He scoffs at it, but he doesn’t refute it any further. It seems too genuine to hate, but the Master has expressed softer remarks that were completely fake. Nothing is trustworthy. “Whatever,” he grumbles. “I’m going to go take care of my damn client. Try not to drown in self-pity while I’m gone.”

Denied a life preserver, Erwin sinks into the ocean of regret while his angel leaves the room. He fiddles with a quill pen as he ruminates on his own actions and what they’ve done to glorify Levi. Nothing, he accepts. They’ve done nothing.

An hour later, Levi feels nothing as an elitist slots a thin cock between his asscheeks. He grips the sheets the client told him to bury his face in and thinks of his Master while someone else pounds into him. He’s gotten so close yet again, Erwin bringing him to the brink and reeling back right before he could leap into the chasm.

Erwin’s denial and deceit is not worth the pleasure he teases. Erwin treats him as though he’s too simple to grasp anything beyond accepting or rejecting basic orders, and it infuriates him. Levi doesn’t want to be taken for a fool, much more, a whorish fool. He’s here for work and he does not want to enjoy his appointments—any implication that he does, and he’ll garner the same scornful comments his mother had received.

Erwin’s not a client, however. Levi justifies his willingness to indulge since it goes beyond his obligations as a courtesan and Erwin’s obligations as the Master. Neither of them have to engage with each other, and yet they do.

As his client fills Levi with his soul, the courtesan wonders why this current action doesn’t harden his cock like the actions of Erwin do. He fails to see the difference between the client and the Master.

One pays him. One owns him. One fucks him, and one sells him. One uses him and the other pleasures him.

Levi scratches the last comparison from his head. Pleasure is not being toyed with and lied to for absolutely nothing. Erwin has not delivered him pleasure and should not be regarded as a harbinger of ecstasy. All the Master is accomplishing is revealing what euphoric possibilities exist in Levi’s body.

And he knows some of those possibilities are his to explore. He doesn’t need an experienced Dominant for everything; his pleasure is not locked up for only Erwin to access.

By the time he’s in the tub after his appointment, he’s concocted a plan. One that avoids grovelling for clients so Erwin will prepare him. One that doesn’t feed the Master’s ego or turn himself into a horny, whiny mess that drowns in abasement. He’ll prod at the erotic world without a single judgmental eye watching him.

Later, he lays in bed and gazes at the bed frame above him. He has come to memorise how long each courtesan stays awake. Of the six residents in his shared quarters, Russell is the last to fall asleep at just past two, second only to the insomniac himself.

Levi, to be safe, decides to wait until half past three before acting.

The courtesans rarely wake up to use the washroom. So long as he moves nimbly, nobody will notice him. Nobody will report to the Master.

Moonlight breathes on his body as he slinks out of bed in the pathetic blue dress. He holds its fabric as he creeps to the door, making sure it will not catch on anything and give him away. With one more glance around the sleeping quarters, he disappears into the hallway.

He must remain cautious. First, he glides to the opposite quarters and rests his temple against the door, listening for any hint of movement within. The timber and the room on the other side is dead quiet. Hopefully, all the courtesans in there are in deep sleep too.

Next, he checks the washroom just to be sure. It’s empty. Then, he creeps across the floorboards to the staircase, finding which spots are sturdy and which risk creaking under his weight. As silent as a phantom, he sneaks downstairs.

The first floor is just as empty as the main floor, revealing no spectators to Levi’s escapade. He enters the vacant, dreary Iris Lounge in utter darkness, no windows or lamps to guide him. It’s manageable; he’s traversed darker environments than this.

He needs lubricant. He knows each of the playrooms have lubricant on standby, along with other toiletries for prep or clean-up. He selects one at random and gingerly slips inside.

It’s the Lavender Room; he picks up on the aroma of floral mist used to spruce up the room between appointments. Moving feet across the plush carpet reminds him of how a giddy client guided him to the bed and instructed him to strip, a memory that twists a knot in his stomach even now. He remembers hearing a glass vial tip over as the client clumsily searched through the bedside drawer, like the pig was trying to boast how pathetic it was before it used him.

Finding the same drawer, he opens it and drops a hand into the abyss. His fingertips feel something leather and flexible, the touch startling him. Maintaining his nerves, he senses a rounded, metal object next before arriving at the glass cylinder.

Putting aside what the other two objects could be, he picks up the vial. It’s coated in a thin layer of grease, some lubricant probably leaking out during use and inadequately cleaned up. Grimacing, he withdraws it and shifts over to the bed.

When he bends over and rests a forearm on the mattress, he feels his head spin and his stomach sink. All he can imagine is the client behind him, casting a looming shadow on the little courtesan he’s stuffing a cock into. Even hoisting his dress up and exposing his backside reminds him how horrific it is to be naked, humiliated, and used.

Nothing in his memories sparks an iota of pleasure. His body is far too disgusted to be aroused.

Giving up, he returns the vial and hurries out of the room, anxious to leave the thoughts behind. He’ll never be able to use that playroom; it’s already been tainted by his work.

The next he tries is the Velvet Room, though he hardly makes it past the antechamber before retreating. Other clients don’t hold a candle to the discomfort memories of Beast elicit. He pictures those wire-rimmed eyes and haughty smirk as soon as he smells the hint of candle wax and discards the room instantly.

He comes to the Master’s office, only knowing as much due to the lack of nameplate on the door’s face. He’s pleased to find it unlocked and, though it’s not a playroom, he knows there’s lubricant stored in here.

Once the door opens, he recognises the faint scent of tobacco atop the muted earthiness of paper stacks and inkwells. It does not smell like sex or torture as the playrooms do. It emanates Erwin, the cunning Master that’s about as intelligent as his office looks.

Levi curses the Master, labelling him a lesser evil compared to the clients. Yes, he offers food, shelter, and protection, but he also manipulates Levi’s feelings of lust and toys with the child’s body for his own amusement.

Even knowing this, Levi doesn’t reject the office. It’s warmer in this room, like Erwin left a part of his aura behind to bless the space. Taking a step inside, he decides to see if his arousal can be reignited in this setting.

A quiet thump above his head directs his eyes to the ceiling. With pricked ears, he pauses and waits to discern what the unexpected noise was. There’s a creak of wood against wood, then silence.

Somebody must be awake. If they find Levi missing, his plan will be thwarted.

Swallowing, he backpedals out of the space and holds still, wondering what exactly is going on in the floors above. He can’t tell if the muffled footsteps are coming from his quarters or not, nor who they belong to. Hinges squeak as a door is opened, barely heard over his pounding heart.

It’s too dangerous now. Even if they don’t notice him missing, he can’t risk making any noise on the main floor that would draw them to him. He’ll have to delay his mission and wait for another opportunity.

Creeping up the staircase, he waits in the landing until footsteps come back out of the washroom and move into one of the quarters before the door clicks shut. Whoever they were, they didn’t come from Levi’s half of the living space and thus they have no idea one courtesan isn’t in his bed.

Free from capture, Levi nimbly crosses to his room and enters, scanning the moonlit bunkbeds. All are still asleep, though even seeing a body shift in slumber frightens Levi. He’ll just have to wait; he knows it better to be cautious than eager.

Chapter Text

Levi recognises the bustle and chatter he hears the next morning. All the gentlemen are up and getting dressed with enthusiasm reserved for only one day of the week. He wonders if he’ll be permitted to join this time.

“Good morning,” Erwin greets as he comes into the quarters, receiving a flurry of cheery responses in return. “Russell, you’re free to head out early if you’d like. I need you to go to the market.”

“Thank you. I’m taking Chester with me.”

“That’s acceptable. Jules? Find a second outfit from your wardrobe. Levi will have to borrow it for today.”

Falling hard for the implicative comment, Levi shoots up to face a cunning Master bearing a pleased grin.

“Good morning, Levi.”

Frowning, Levi hates how well Erwin knows him. He wishes he hadn’t just displayed the most boyish glee over hearing his name mentioned. “Don’t screw with me,” he mumbles. “If…if you’re not going to let me out, just say so.”

“I have something for you.” Erwin takes a shoebox from the crook of his arm and places it in Levi’s lap. “Open it.”

Levi peels off the lid to uncover a pair of fine leather shoes, recently purchased without so much as a dent in the material. He runs a thumb along the hard heel and the tight laces, only remembering this sort of quality from the windows of shoemaker shops.

This proves that Erwin hasn’t found out about his nighttime escapade. Had he known, he would’ve never given Levi such a fine gift.

“Take care of them,” the Master instructs. “And only wear them when you go out. I don’t want my carpets soiled with whatever you track inside.”

“Yeah, fine.” Hopeful, Levi takes his present out of the box. “Can I wear them out today?”

“Of course,” Erwin answers, relishing the way Levi’s brow lifts with joy. “You’ll be coming with me. I ought to allow you some time out for your good work.”

Erwin definitely doesn’t know about Levi’s crime. That’s relieving.

“About time.” He says this to disguise his dancing heart, but he might as well be made of glass.

“Levi.” Seeing through him, Erwin slides a strong hand under his jaw and tilts his chin up. “Where’s my ‘thank you’?”

Small and reticent, Levi pulls timid eyes up to meet Erwin’s. He’s right—for both the shoes and the chance to go outside, Levi should be extremely grateful.

“Thank you very much, Master,” Levi surrenders, resting his head’s weight on Erwin’s palm.

Erwin tells himself he ought to make Levi show gratitude more often. He’s quite fond of Levi’s soft, submissive voice.

“Get dressed,” he orders. “Jules will get you clothes. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you in the foyer.”

“Okay.” Levi throws himself out of Erwin’s hand and scurries off to find his bunkmate.

Somehow, Levi makes it to the foyer before Erwin can. The Master thought his conversations dismissing courtesans were brief, but Levi’s haste in getting ready was even quicker. Levi waits by the door, his shoe-clad toes tapping on the floor. He wears trousers that are a tad baggy on him and a clean undershirt, both loaned gifts from Jules. A handkerchief filled with half his savings weighs down his pocket.

“Nothing gets you moving quite like going outside.” Erwin fixes the crooked collar of Levi’s shirt, eyeing the sharp clavicle passing underneath it. He ponders what it might look like marked up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Quit taunting me. Let’s just get going.”

“We will. A few ground rules—”

“Come on,” Levi sighs. “That’s so stupid. I’m not your child.”

“You’re my employee and responsibility.” Erwin catches his nape before he can slip outside. “Firstly, you will stay by my side today. When in the streets, at no point are you to disconnect from me.”

“The hell?” Levi grabs at the wrist that constricts him. “Do you expect me to hold Daddy’s hand or something?”

“Of course not. You must be subtle—those out there won’t appreciate any sort of affection from you to me.”

“I get that,” Levi grunts as he’s guided outside. He’s not keen on the bigotry of the outside world, but he figures it must exist in great quantities. If it didn’t, far more coupled men would frolic with each other as much as the men and their wives do. “But I don’t need to be leashed to you. I know these damn streets better than you do.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Recalibrating, Erwin takes a small hand and insists that it pinch the pocket flap of his overcoat. The tiniest, subtlest form of tethering. “The people of the streets are a different matter, however. I’m afraid I don’t trust you enough to navigate them without issue.”

“I’m not that stupid,” Levi mutters, digging his nail into the coat’s fabric.

Erwin leads him to the main street, the spine of the city from which almost all roads diverge. Horse-drawn carriages clatter down the centre and pedestrians move to and fro, in haste or sloth. Shopkeepers shoo away quick-witted boys and croak for a constable, though the thieves learn to leap over the legs of a sleeping vagrant and slip into a tight alley. A fine woman calls for her husband and points at the new displays in a hat shop they pass, soon convincing his weak-willed heart to enter and make a purchase. Elderly men walk in tandem, craning weary necks to witness the overcast sky and musing about when it might rain next.

“A lovely sight, isn’t it?” Erwin tries, drinking in the thoroughfare.

“Damn noisy.” Levi tells himself he’s shifting closer to Erwin to hide how strongly his fingers clench the coat.

“That’s a good sign. I’d be unnerved if it were quiet.” Feeling the tug on his clothing, Erwin can’t help but smile. Him and his precious treasure, out in the world for all to see. Look, everyone! He belongs to me! “Anyway,” he resumes, shutting down those boastful thoughts. “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care. Do whatever you need to get done. I’ll tag along.”

“I can leave the House whenever I’d like. We’re out here today for you—go ahead and pick somewhere to go.”

Levi huffs, searching the street for an answer. There’s nothing he needs to do out here, since all his needs are fulfilled back at the House. He has no goods to pawn off, nor rubbish heaps to check, nor territory to keep protected. In his previous life, he’d spend these hours hunkered in an alley and picking pocket watches off lunatics, keeping a cautious eye on the bright world outside his caves. He has no need for that now, which leaves him at quite a loss when offered the chance to do something normal.

“How about this?” Erwin’s talking again, which means Levi must’ve been in thought for far too long. “That handkerchief you wrapped your coins in is hardly adequate. Shall we purchase a proper coin purse for you?”

“That’s a waste,” Levi scoffs. “I should only spend my money on things I need.”

Nevertheless, Erwin begins meandering to the nearest general goods store. “That’s a sound mindset. Strict, though. When will you enjoy pleasantries in life if you never indulge every now and again?”

“Luxury’s not a priority right now. I’m still trying to survive.”

“Is that a struggle? You’re given food and shelter, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t permanent.” Levi brings his eyes up, gazing at the higher storeys of surrounding buildings. “I’ll move out eventually. I need to be saving up for that.”

“Ah.” Erwin’s heart splits in his chest. Unlike others, Levi has no intent to make the House his permanent residence. He came in with a goal, and once he achieves it he’ll be gone in an instant. There’s not much about a brothel that could entice him to stay if his needs can be met elsewhere. Erwin’s adoration alone wouldn’t be enough to persuade him, no matter how astronomical it may be. “Where would you like to move? Would you rent a flat?”

“Maybe,” Levi muses, falling for Erwin’s small talk that covers up his worry. “It wouldn’t be great, but it’d be a start.”

“It’s not anyone’s dream to live in some of these homes.” Erwin’s well aware he’s talking only to dissuade Levi. Selfish, he scolds of himself. Let the boy choose his own future. “If money was no object, where would you live? A splendid mansion?”

“Hell no.” Levi kicks at a loose pebble, sending it hurling and lodging into the wood of an idle stagecoach. “That’s such a waste of space. I’d just get out of this godforsaken city and find someplace new. Maybe near the coast, or out in the country. Somewhere quiet.”

Though it means leaving the House behind, Erwin won’t fault something so idyllic. “That’s a fantastic dream, Levi,” he praises as they come upon the storefront. “I hope you can fulfil it someday.”

“Hm.” Levi lifts his head to attempt reading the store’s name, then shifts his cautious gaze to Erwin. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He should mean it. It’s the right thing to do. “Let’s go in. We’ll find something nice in here.”

The shop is a quaint garden of merchandise, boasting many shelves stocked full with bland necessities and pleasantries for the common man. Levi has rarely found the need to frequent a store like this, usually choosing produce markets or pawn shops. He has no time to browse through trinkets and doodads when his life is threatened every passing moment.

Now, almost obligated to enjoy himself, Levi ambles through the space with curious eyes fixed on every new object. He inspects a shelf of ironware and dishes, assuming them to be lower quality than what the House already owns. Next is a display case of cigar boxes, each stinging Levi’s tongue with the pictured taste of their tobacco. Ignoring it, he moves on to a row of tea boxes and squints at their faces, wondering if the brewed liquid would taste as good as the printed label looks.

“Matilda,” Erwin greets warmly as he comes to the rear of the shop, where an aged woman fiddles with a stuck drawer in the counter. “Good morning.”

“Ah, Erwin.” Levi picks up on her cracked but gentle tone. “It’s been some time. How have you fared?”

“Splendidly.” And, Levi cringes at the sycophantic manner in which Erwin picks up and plants a kiss on her knuckles. “I apologise for failing to come by more frequently. I keep telling myself to stock up before the weather makes it difficult to travel here.”

“You’ll be kicking yourself when it comes,” she scolds lightheartedly.

Levi filters into another aisle, glossing over derby hats and neckties. He sees purses and clutches next, all made of exquisite leather or fabric. Beside them, wallets are lined up like plots in a cemetery.

He selects one at random, turning over its leather body and running a thumb along its gold clasp. It’s decent, though a bit gaudy. He puts it aside.

Having the freedom of choice, the right to be picky, is a pleasure he didn’t realise he appreciates until he tilts another option in the lamplight. He could have this one or a different one, no longer restricted to whatever he can get his hands on first.

The one he holds now is close to the colour of fudge and simple in its design: merely a flap draped over a tiny pouch for coins. It has a single button and lacks any of the frilly designs painting the women’s purses. Quite practical and nondescript.

Satisfied, he slinks to the rear of the store where Erwin’s conversation has yet to cease.

“Ah, Levi.” Erwin halts whatever tangent he was on when his partner returns. “Matilda, I’d like you to meet Levi. He’s a recent colleague from the country club.”

Levi slides his purchase onto the counter. “I am,” he remarks, halfheartedly fitting into the false role Erwin made up for him. “How much?”

Matilda greets Levi with a weary smile and gingerly picks up the wallet. “Five and three for this design. I quite appreciate the stitching quality along the seams.”

“Pricy,” Erwin comments. “Can most labourmen afford that?”

“Not often,” Matilda admits, her and Erwin observing the way Levi sorts through coins in his palm. “It is well-crafted and coveted, though. Most I know are glad to save up for a week or two to afford it.”

Erwin opens his mouth to speak and resume the conversation, but he’s distracted by how Levi catalogues each coin and determines how to find the amount required. Fascinated, he can only wonder how the illiterate boy is understanding which coin is worth what. A failure to read the minted letters is enough of a barrier and furthermore Erwin has no gauge of Levi’s arithmetic ability.

“Half crown,” Levi mutters to either himself or them, segregating the chosen coin from its family. “And another,” he announces when discovering the coin’s twin. “Five,” is his final mathematics when setting down the two coins. Tasked with finding the remaining coinage, he searches through the pile again with marginally less success.

After a moment, he sighs and picks up a single coin to show Erwin. “Threepence?”

Once realising Levi is actually asking instead of demonstrating, Erwin glances at the coin and shakes his head. “Sixpence.”

“Damn.” Disappointed with his failed guess, Levi tries again. He discovers another coin similar in design save for a different symbol on its reverse. “This one?”

“Yes.” Erwin, on the other hand, beams with pride upon watching the newly-learned pupil discover monetary symbols and values. It’s beguiling to see an uneducated man thrive as much as he can without shame. Levi seems to show no embarrassment about struggling to grasp what has never been taught to him, instead managing a great deal on his own before quite casually asking for help when needed.

“Five and three,” Levi announces, dumping the remainder back into his pocket. He’s managed well enough with currency in the past, though he’s usually just intentionally paid a little too much and ran the risk of never getting his owed change back. He considered his strategy a form of charity work, when in truth it was due to a slight failure to understand the coins beyond their basic designs.

Once back outside, Levi slips a few fingers into Erwin’s coat pocket and braces for the gust of wind sprinting through the streets. Erwin notices and has to bite back a pleased grin that would’ve overflowed with enough giddiness to sicken Levi.

“I’m impressed, Levi. You handled the transaction well.”

“Just because I can’t read doesn’t mean I can’t handle money.” Levi cards fingers through his hair, fixing the part the wind is trying to destroy. “It would help if they wouldn’t make all the coins look so similar, though.”

“Nevertheless, you did finely. Would you like to head elsewhere today? We can find a cosmetic shop if you’d like soaps or perfumes.”

“No. I’d rather go back to the House now.”

“That’s unexpected,” Erwin notes. “Weren’t you itching to come outside for a while?”

Levi knows he was, but once given the freedom he now feels no joy in it. Outside is lovely and free, but it offers nothing for him right now. Flats are still too expensive to consider, not to mention transportation costs to leave the city and find work elsewhere. Dependent on his salary, he feels tethered to the House even being physically separated from it. With where he stands, the splendours of civilian life seem to taunt him, daring him to partake in a domestic lifestyle he’s still far from affording. It hurts him to only window shop a comfortable life without having the security to walk in and purchase it.

So for now, his only cornerstone is the House. At least in there, he can play out a modicum of normalcy when preparing dinner or cleaning floors. Ignoring the gruesome work he must partake in during the day, he can wrap himself in warmth and be grateful for a life that is one step above where he came from.

“There’s nothing for me out here,” Levi laments. “Not yet, anyway. I might as well make myself useful and clean the playrooms while the men are out and about.”

“If you insist.” Erwin has no rebuttal, rather ambivalent about watching his sparrow return to its cage willingly. He likes to see Levi magnetise back to the House, but it’s unpleasant to wonder if that choice is made out of desire or obligation.

Several hours later, Levi is halted by Jules upon entering the quarters, his bunkmate demanding their clothes back.

“Sorry!” Jules sings as they tug Levi’s undershirt free from his trousers. “I need ‘em. Besides, Master said you weren’t allowed to keep them.”

“Fuck—quit.” Levi slaps their hands away and begrudgingly works the fabric off himself. “I can undress myself.”

“How was outside?”

“Fine.” Levi tosses the fabric into their hands, realising he should’ve visited a clothing shop during his parole. He works the trousers off, bidding his decency farewell. “Though being leashed to that blondie is hardly freeing. I felt like a damn dog.”

“You’ll get more freedom in the future, don’t worry.” Jules takes the pants they’re handed, then points at Levi’s pelvis. “Sorry, I need the drawers too. Master insisted.”

“You’re kidding,” Levi groans. “I’m not going naked again. Where’s that blue dress?”

“In the wash.” Jules hugs their bundle of clothes, thinking. “Here: I have a dress I don’t wear anymore. Let me find it.”

They sort through the wardrobe while Levi strips off his trousers, standing as naked as usual in the only establishment that supports nudism. He still despises it, and he’d still rather wear the burgundy, fitting chemise Jules offers him instead of nothing.

“Cute,” Jules compliments. “Red’s a good colour on you.”

Levi tugs the straps up, struggling to keep them atop his shoulders. The seams stretch as the fabric clings to his chest, trapping him in a pseudo-corset. “Thanks for this. Will the Master say anything?”

“When you look that good? I doubt it. He just told me to take back the clothes I loaned you so you wouldn’t feel comfortable going in public. Um, sorry.”

“Disgusting bastard,” Levi mutters, holding the hem down over the crest of his ass. “He really knows how to keep his prisoners locked up.”

“Careful,” Jules warns. “I bet Master would reward me if I told him how disrespectfully you’re talking about him.”

Levi scoffs. “Snitch.”

That night, Levi puts aside thoughts of the outside in favour of pursuing his mission again. He knows what he’s doing now, and as long as nobody frightens him with an impromptu washroom visit, he’ll be safe. Plus, it’s darker tonight, giving the thin cat even more cover to travel under.

His red chemise stays close to his skin as he walks, as silent and fluid as him. He makes it to the main floor and over to Erwin’s office, proudly entering the Master’s personal lair.

Levi dodges the sitting area and crosses to the desk, running a hand along its desktop to find the other side. At Erwin’s chair, he feels the side of the desk until he runs across the first drawer.

Inside, his fingers find the object he’s only seen before. A tiny vial, filled with the lubricant that accomplishes more than his own saliva could.

Finally, he’ll try again. Properly. His failure last time occurred from friction, and this magic shit will eliminate that issue.

This office holds memories, but they don’t burden him the way the playrooms do. Erwin aggravates Levi, yet he can cherry-pick recollections of lust and appreciation if needed. Instead of thinking about how Erwin keeps him caged, he thinks of how masterfully Erwin praises his body and stimulates his nerves. These pictures are far better than ones of Beast or other clients.

He kneels on Erwin’s desk, telling himself it's necessary so the lubricant drips on the desktop and not the carpet. In the near darkness, he stares at nothing and imagines the painted magnolia a few feet away while his fingers coat themselves in slimy fluid.

Again, he attempts to finger himself. With the magic of lubricant, he’s able to slide in one slender finger without issue.

Gasping, his body clenches his own digit. He did it. He can do this on his own, no cunning Master necessary. He’s eager for more.

This angle is inadequate. He shifts his hips off his ankles and splays his legs to the side, then tries again with an arm laced behind his back.

The second knuckle of his middle slips past the ring. It feels awkward, the action a little too exposed when it’s just him and himself, a finger in his own ass. He tries not to think about it.

Curling in his finger brings his fingertip along a sensitive wall and stirs delight in his nerves. Dropping onto his elbow, he shudders as he digs the finger in deeper and extends it straight.

“Oh.” He’s pressed against something tender, just barely. It’s out of reach from this angle.

He tries again on his back, replicating his position from Erwin’s experiment and sending his hand between his spread thighs. Reentering, he pushes his fingertip up and rubs against the deep bulb again. His cock twitches as his insides calibrate around the new stimulation, and the warmth in his stomach returns. It’s that gem Erwin prodded at before, the strange button inside him that lacks any purpose beyond feeling good.

Flares of delight are erupting in his body but they aren’t as powerful as they could be. His body seems agreeable, as if it’s not amazed by Levi’s work. It’s used to it—this is nothing special or exciting.

He scolds his own lust for remaining dormant until Erwin enters the picture. Damn Erwin. What spell did that prick cast to rewire his body?

He fingered him. He twisted large digits inside Levi while murmuring words of praise, his motion gentle and his voice low. His eyes would scan Levi’s body, learning every contour and dip, and the corners of his lips would upturn when Levi moaned out a sound of joy. Beautiful, he called Levi.

Precious.

My good boy.

“Fuck,” Levi mutters to himself in the silent abyss. He feels a rush through his body upon remembering those words, the sensation of his finger doubled by his imagination. Such sweet words; he can’t get them out of his head. They ought to be rebuked, coming from the vile Master, but Levi’s already replaying the sound of them in Erwin’s voice.

Beautiful. Precious. Good boy.

Over, and over, and over.

Levi’s fit a second finger in, wiggling them around to mine for any jackpot of pleasure. He brings a hand to his half-mast cock, grazing fingertips over its warm length.

The Master told him not to touch it.

Still, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Levi wraps fingers around the shaft, just as Erwin had.

His hands don’t nearly compare to Erwin’s—his had been enormous and warm. Imagining them now, atop his own, gives him the lust necessary to rub himself into a frenzy. The Master touched him so well. Nobody stimulates his body with such skill. His pleasure and fulfilment have been granted by the wonderful—

“Master,” he moans, the word delicious on his lips. His fist runs up and down his cock as he tickles the bulb inside him, cooking up more groans in his lungs. Every nerve in his system dances, his mind and hands working together fluidly.

“M-Master.” Saying it seems to rile his system even more. “Master…Erwin. Nh! Erwin!”

He rolls onto his knees, his ass flung in the air as his weight sinks onto his chest. His dangling cock is pumped sensually, dripping onto the desktop.

“Master Erwin…” He uses the full name, unsure of which part he likes better. Master. Erwin. Both titles are rather appealing.

Baring teeth, he inhales remnants of cigar smoke from the desktop and recalls Erwin’s inane treatment when they met. His face, covered in smoke, and his sly grin as he taunted Levi with the promise of a good life. Levi ought to hate the villain, but he can’t bring himself to.

“Fuck,” Levi breathes again. “Fuck you, Master Erwin.”

His body likes that sentence to his dismay. He hates the Master but cannot stop moaning his name like it’s an addictive drug. As he masturbates, he can’t let anything enter his head beside that damned face.

“Dammit—Erwin!” He pumps faster, his fingers squirming in his ass, as he curses and groans for his Master. Soon, he might release that same fluid he’s felt from his Master and the clients. That soul Beast spoke of, whether it is truly that spiritual or not.

Is he allowed to let that out? The pressure he’s putting on that gem inside him seems to encourage its release. Still, is that sort of release acceptable? Safe, even?

Or can only skilled masters release it without issue? Levi might cause harm to his body.

This worry slows his effort. Panting against the desktop, he hates how his rationality, for once, is stronger than his lust. He’s nervous to keep going.

His hand stops at the base of his cock, squeezing the swollen shaft. Peeling his chest off the desk, he sits on his heels and sighs.

“Fuck,” he says to the darkness, clenching his wet hands in his lap. It’s pitiful like this, wallowing in his own denial and tasked with cleaning up his mess. He learned, but he didn’t achieve anything.

He conducts the cleanse of shame, sneaking to the dining hall to find cleaning supplies in the rear closet. It’s hard to scrub in pitch darkness, but Levi wipes the surface at least a dozen times and makes sure every inch has been made damp with soapy water. It’s dried and buffed with a clean cloth, then felt again with a clean finger to check for any residue. From touch alone, Levi assumes it must be fine.

Satisfied, he returns the lube to its drawer and takes his supplies out of the room. That’ll have to do, for now.

Chapter Text

In the lounge the next day, Levi rearranges a fresh delivery of flowers in their vase, snipping stems in the burgundy chemise he was given. It’s hardly appropriate attire for housework, much less any daily activity, but it’s all he’s come to expect. He gathers his flower scraps in a sack, about to dismiss himself to dispose of them, when a recognisable client is guided through the entrance hall by Jules.

It’s Beast. That mangy fucker is back.

“For pity’s sake,” Levi mutters as the furball saunters to the lounge. He’s tempted to sprint away, but the client is already upon him.

“Levi, it’s good to see you.” Beast descends into the conversation pit, about as arrogantly haughty as the Master himself. He seems to own this space just as much as Erwin does. “Have you worked on sucking cock since we last met?”

“Yeah,” Jules answers as they take Levi’s rubbish bag from him. “He went nuts on Master—”

“Shut up,” Levi snarls, about to throttle the snitch. “Beast, if you want a damn appointment, the Master’s office is right there.”

“So snippy.” Beast clamps a hand onto Levi’s nape, bold in his ownership of the courtesan. “Has he let your attitude run rampant like that?”

Levi pushes against Beast’s ribcage, worming around in his iron grip. “Book an appointment if you’re going to touch me like that.”

“Gladly. Let’s go greet the Master together.” Beast pulls Levi out of the lounge, taking along his plaything to rent it.

In the office, Erwin rubs fingertips over a small spot on his desktop, wondering whether that dried fluid is lubricant or some other spilled liquid. He’s trying to ignore it, but he can’t recall when a stain like that would’ve gotten there. The discrepancy bothers him.

“No, you can’t just go in—Master!” Levi’s voice calls from the other side of the door. “It’s Levi—and Beast. May we come in?”

“So you do know some manners,” Beast deadpans.

Sighing, Erwin blankets the transparent stain with a random envelope and shifts back. “Come in.”

The two foes stumble in, Levi wriggling in the grasp of the animal he’s dragging along. “He wants to book me,” Levi announces before the client can even speak. “So schedule something soon—”

“You don’t make the decisions, Levi. Come kneel beside me while we talk.”

Levi erupts with embarrassment, rigid in Beast’s grasp. “No—I’ll just leave—”

“Go on,” Beast encourages, pushing him forward. “Kneel nice and pretty, Levi.”

Clenching his teeth, Levi circles Erwin’s desk with a glare pointed at either man. He drops to his knees beside Erwin’s chair, at eye-level with his thigh. He stares at the chair’s glossy legs while listening to the blonds converse above him.

“I’m glad you’ve returned,” Erwin starts, floating a hand down to rest on Levi’s scalp. “Levi’s been through a few other clients since your last session.”

Beast sticks a hip against the edge of Erwin’s desk, checking the smudges on his glasses in the light. “So I hear. You’re among them?”

“In a sense,” Erwin admits. “Though I don’t have to take the time to book a session for my own boys.”

“For Levi, you mean. You don’t screw anyone but Levi.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I have eyes—impaired one, granted, but I can still see that Levi surpasses everyone here. You and I wouldn’t settle for less.”

Erwin keeps his grin hidden, even if he wants to agree with the client. “Don’t denigrate my gentlemen in that manner.”

Beast merely shrugs. “I understand you have a duty to promote them. I’ll declare what decorum stops you from confessing.”

“Hm.”

“Today,” Beast moves on. “I’ll do eleven this evening. The Velvet Room will be fine. And I’ll pay the same price—even if he has been used. I’m not a penurious client.”

“You don’t determine the prices—”

“I do. Levi’s the little bitch here, not me. Are you going to reject my steep offer?”

Levi huffs, partially insulted by Beast’s arrogance and partially amused by Erwin’s subjugation. Erwin lightly pinches a lock of black hair to remind his courtesan of his manners.

“Your patronage is not vital to me,” Erwin counters. “I’ll reject you if you keep acting like you can puppet my business.”

“No, no,” Beast retreats. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your best client—”

“And once you’re rejected, I’ll send a detailed receipt of your last transaction to your estate. For your records. Though, I’m terribly sorry—discretion’s not my expertise, so I can’t do anything to help the possibility that a valid account of your session could end up in the hands of Grisha.”

Beast chuckles. “Sly dog. On a first name basis with the doctor, are you?”

“I’ve been given no reason to respect the Jaegers enough to address them properly.”

Underneath Erwin’s tensed palm, Levi’s disturbed by Erwin’s wrath. No part of his threat is faked, issued with the confidence that he can and will follow through.

“Alright. What price will you set?”

“The same as before,” Erwin agrees anyway.

“Mmhmm.” Beast claims that small victory, gathering up lost pride. “And—here, I have the list written up. It differs slightly from last time.”

Erwin takes the parchment Beast hands him, scanning its content. His eyes widen, confusion sapping his mind of conscious thought.

Levi, desperate to learn before the moment evades him, lifts his chin. “Read it,” he says to Erwin’s thigh. “Well—will you please read the list, Master?”

Erwin finds silent consent in Beast’s nod, then brings his eyes back to the list. He parts his lips and speaks.

“Oral sex.”

Levi shudders. “What—what else?”

“That’s it.”

Levi’s expression instantly matches Erwin’s. “That’s it?!”

“What’s the matter?” Beast grins. “Do you want me to do more to you, Levi?”

“No. But—that’s ridiculous. You’re paying that much for—”

“Only this list is valid.” Erwin doesn’t mind the peculiarity. Beast is bound by his wishes, and if all he wants is for Levi to suck him off, then that’s all he can do. “You understand that, right? You may not do anything with him beyond oral sex.”

“Of course. I know how much you lock up your boys.”

Truly, Erwin can’t find room for issue. It is strange, but doable.

“Levi,” Erwin calls. “You know to retreat if he pushes boundaries, correct?”

“Yes, Master. I’ll break his nose if he tries anything else.”

Beast loves the challenge. “I’m shaking, Levi. I’ll make sure not to piss you off.”

Erwin nods. “Good. Submit your payment and I’ll schedule—”

“And since I don’t want anal sex, there’s no need to prepare him.” Beast eyes Erwin, drinking in the way he processes that realisation. “I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time with preparation, Master.”

Levi swallows. The added benefit of a session has been stripped away. At least the salary will be good.

“Of course.” Erwin doesn’t express a shred of disappointment. His lust does not overshadow his business.

Beast pays in the blink of an eye, the hefty sum of his cash passed to Erwin above Levi’s sight. He leaves after bidding goodbye to Levi, shutting the Master and the courtesan in the office.

Levi sighs, putting his hands on the ground and preparing to rise.

“Wait a moment.”

Pausing, Levi casts a silver eye up at his Master. “Why?”

Erwin’s not sure why. Beast has left a bad taste in his mouth and he’s not ready for his pet to detach from him. Plus, that stain keeps bothering him. There’s too many factors beyond his comprehension right now and he hates his incognizance.

He looks over at Levi, who meets his gaze evenly. Suspicion lingers over the cat, but there’s an aura of comfort around him too. Levi’s not necessarily a devout servant, yet he offers the same solace as a stuffed animal. It’s strange.

He shifts his chair back and presents his lap. “Take a seat,” he orders instead.

Levi’s eyes narrow, brimming with reluctance. “Bend…over?”

“No. Just take a seat.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I want to hold you,” Erwin answers plainly. “Do I need a reason beyond that?”

Trepidatiously, Levi crawls onto Erwin’s thighs, his eyes warily on Erwin’s expression. “It’s hard to believe that reason.”

“Perhaps so,” Erwin admits, pulling Levi’s knees together. “I don’t have any ulterior motive right now. I would simply like you to rest with me.”

Levi ponders as he finds a comfortable position, throwing his calves over the armrest. “Yeah? And does every courtesan kill time in the Master’s lap?”

“No, none of them do.” Erwin coaxes Levi’s head to rest under his chin. “You realise by now you’re a special case, don’t you? I’m not oblivious to how uniquely I treat you.”

Slouching, Levi sees no reason to fight this order. He, too, needs something to dispel the stench Beast has left behind. “Picking favourites is a bad look.”

“Why complain? It benefits you.”

“It’s still unfair.”

“Then view it as me giving special attention to a case that needs it. I have no choice.”

Erwin lies for both of them and Levi accepts it. He cares for equality, but he cares for the warmth of his Master’s lap more.

Erwin sorts through envelopes while holding Levi, reading paragraphs while lazily rubbing the small, pale thigh he holds. Neither of them are certain of why they’re doing this, but they both blame Beast for tainting the air. It must be purified and doing absolutely nothing is the antidote.

“So,” Levi mumbles as he tries to interpret the blocks of text. “You can read?”

“Yes. My parents put me through schooling until I graduated from university.”

“Rich family?”

“That’s right. My father worked as a regius professor before joining the university council.”

“Holy shit.”

“Daunting footsteps to follow in, no doubt.”

“What the hell are you doing running a brothel?”

Erwin slowly, methodically folds up a letter before ripping it straight down the middle. He’s disinterested in that client.

“It seems only fitting for a sodomite. I had no chance of pursuing a fruitful life once my family found out.”

“…Oh.”

“Don’t pity me.” Erwin sets the scraps aside and takes up the next envelope. “If anything, it’s been a delight to watch my parents fight to convince society that they’ve never had a son. They were so boastful of my academics beforehand, so nobody believes them now.”

“Fuckers get what they deserve.”

Erwin emits a pleased hum, resting his jaw on Levi’s scalp. “We’ll never fix your language, will we?”

“Probably not,” Levi replies smugly.

“Special case,” Erwin repeats as he unfolds the paper. “Now then, it’s your turn.”

“What?”

“I gave you my history. I’d like for you to tell me yours.”

Levi’s shoulders shrug up, nestling against Erwin’s chest. “There’s not much to say.”

“You didn’t materialise into existence right before entering my office. Tell me where you came from.”

Levi finds no reason to hide the truth. He’s already pathetic; retelling a pathetic history won’t change anything.

“I was born in a brothel—nothing like this one. A shitty one. Chock-full of desperate women and pigs. I couldn’t stand it.”

“I see. Was your mother a prostitute?”

“Yeah. She treated me as well as a poor woman could. Tried to hide me from her work. Taught me little things when she had time. When she didn’t have appointments.”

“And your father? A faceless client, perhaps?”

“Mmhmm. Never met him. The women of the brothel took care of me until I was a boy.”

“And then?”

“My mother died. Caught something from a client, probably. The brothel had no need for a male child, so they threw me out. I’ve been on the streets since then.”

For just under twenty years, this cat has struggled to survive. No wonder it came limping into a last resort, needy for food. It knew that prostitution earns enough to support a family of two, perhaps more reliably than any other tactic it had used to survive. Erwin submerges himself in Levi’s history, astounded to see how much it differs from his own.

“Did you try any other profession before coming here?” he wonders.

“Sure, but I couldn’t stand them. Pure finding, to resurrectionism, to factory work. It was all disgusting.”

“And you find prostitution more tolerable?”

“Well…” Levi fidgets with a button he’s found on Erwin’s waistcoat. “It’s good enough here. Food. Warmth. All that bullshit.”

“Thank you. I’m glad I’ve provided enough to encourage you to stay.”

“Don’t get arrogant,” Levi warns. “I can leave whenever I want. There are still other options for me.”

“Such as?”

Levi doesn’t actually have an answer for that—it was intended to be a hollow threat. The House was, and still is, his last option. In life, anyway.

“Joining my mother.”

Erwin goes still, sensing the gravity of Levi’s promise. Truly, there is nothing for him but the House. Nothing but suicide.

He adds another commandment to his list: he will not let that moment come. Levi’s life will take priority over all else and Erwin will utilise whatever available power to protect it. He refuses to let the boy succumb to his own despair.

“Your mother would be disappointed to see you so soon.”

Levi harrumphs. “You don’t know her. She might want some company.”

“As do I,” Erwin counters. “You’re not permitted to leave for quite a while.”

For once, Levi feels a command resonate with him. Someone else desires his presence, somebody still on earth. He does not fight for only himself anymore; he has another devotee that protests his urge to retire.

“Understood, Master.” He shuts his eyes, satisfied with his given answer.

Time passes. Erwin refuses to acknowledge how much by keeping the clock aptly out of his sight. He finishes his mail, and when Levi’s not watching he inspects what’s left of that mysterious stain. Forcing himself to ignore it again, he runs through a submitted list of the House’s inventory and takes note of what needs to be restocked. After that, he recounts the salaries made that week and retrieves a tax from each before filing them into envelopes for their designated courtesan.

After that, he runs out of things to do. He would go socialise, but that is the most foreign form of entertainment right now. Seeing any face besides Levi’s just twists his stomach in a knot—something about the air has left him feeling sick. There is nothing he wants to do besides sit here.

He sacrificed a life of scholarly success to be the Master, so he will exploit the power he gave himself. Society has rejected him, but the House he constructed has not. Safe in its walls, and in his authority, he freely chooses to do nothing but sit with his pet, with Levi. He has earned that right.

Levi, beneath him, has no reason to rebel. What he lacked for many gruelling years, he now basks in every single day. The saviour that bestowed such luxuries upon him is clinging to him, asking for his company in exchange. He gives it—after all, he’s already given his body and vulnerability to this man. The deliverance of his presence is a nonissue.

If the Master asks for more, he might provide more. There seems to be no reason not to.

The day marches on. Levi is sent to his quarters after an uncertain amount of time and he opts to stay in bed until the late evening. Erwin’s actions are mechanical for the remainder of the day, his body operating automatically while his mind is worlds away.

Levi comes to dinner, only nibbling an apple slice as he watches the clock tick closer to eleven. No preparation is needed, so he does not meet with the Master beforehand. The Master has the right to toy with him anyway, but neither of them seem willing to execute that situation. They’ve been safe behind the pretence, and the absence of an excuse leaves both of them too vulnerable and reluctant.

Levi goes to his appointment. He meets Beast in the Velvet Room, where Beast immediately requests that he loses that tight dress. Levi discards it without a thought, dropping it to the floor.

“You really have adjusted. You were fighting to cover your little dick the last time we did this.”

“I grew comfortable. It was bound to happen.” Levi starts to lower to his knees, but Beast shakes his head.

“Oh, not on your knees. You’ll go lay on the bed.”

“What?” Levi stands dumbly in place. “I can’t give oral sex like that—”

“Sure you can.” Beast crosses to the bed, flicking back the canopy that engulfs it. “Come here, courtesan.”

Levi warily treads toward him, wincing at the bearded grin that holds a flood of witty insults behind it. “What do you want me to do?”

Beast pats the bed’s edge. “Lay on your back, with your head right here. It should drop off the mattress.”

Climbing onto the bed, Levi blueprints how exactly a cock is going to enter his mouth and, once realising the intended mechanics, feels sick from the mental image. He’s being morphed into a literal sleeve, a limp body angled just right to shove a dick into. Laying back, his stomach churns with dread as his head lolls back over the edge. Upside-down, he watches as Beast squats so their faces are close.

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Beast sneers.

“This is disgusting.” Levi’s head is heavy, filled with pooling blood. His cheeks burn hot red and his body feels even barer when he’s not positioned adequately enough to defend it.

“It’s good for me.” Beast runs a finger up his elongated windpipe, stopping right at the tip of his sharp chin. “Easy access.”

“Disgusting,” Levi curses again out of fear. He knows the feeling of suffocation and he does not want Beast to be the executioner.

“Just keep your jaw open, okay? It’ll be a hell of a surgery to reattach it if you chomp my dick off.”

“I just might,” Levi threatens as Beast rises to his feet.

His insides are in knots as he watches trousers fall to reveal hairy thighs, a stiff cock above them. A whine slips out of his lips as he tenses up, shimmying away from the shaft when it’s brought to his lips.

“I don’t—mm—” Taking it in, Levi screws his eyes shut and fights every urge to shred this man to pieces and flee. His lungs choke up before the cock has even entered his airway, strangled by the need to cry. Gripping the sheets, he can only pray this hour will pass quickly.

Beast has to bend his knees slightly to reach his sleeve and soon he shifts his weight forward to press hands against Levi’s chest. He pinches the courtesan’s nipples as he gently thrusts, watching him squirm like a webbed fly.

“Pretty boy,” he murmurs gravelly. “Full of hate until you’re stuffed and silent. You’re so pretty like this.”

Levi’s tongue fights against Beast’s shaft, failing to barricade it from entering deeper. He inhales the polluting musk of the sagging balls his nose presses against and wishes to scream from the torture. His body thrashes, chained down by his captured head.

“That’s right; keep writhing.” Beast moves his hips fluidly to give Levi’s lungs the chance to fill. Then, he plunges in, stifling the airway and sending the pale form into a panic. “I’m in love with your fight, Levi. I’m really, really turned on by your fear.”

“Nn—hahn!” Levi cries when he’s given his vocal cords back. “Wuh—waih—!”

“I’m not waiting. Let me suffocate you a few more times.”

Levi shrieks silently as he’s clogged up, his hips thrown left and right as his heels dig into the mattress. This is pure, grotesque hell for him.

“You don’t need to worry—I know what I’m doing.” Beast layers a palm over Levi’s throat, feeling the bulge of his own cock inside the sleeve. “I’m a sadist, sure, but I’m a careful one. I wouldn’t want to piss off your owner.”

Eyes roll back in Levi’s skull, his half-lidded vision blurry and lost. His oesophagus burns, abraded by sandpaper and coated with reflexive bile.

“Breathe,” Beast commands as he pulls back, his tip by Levi’s teeth. “I’d rather return you to Erwin alive.”

Levi gasps, then coughs out a garbled, “I ha-eht eht.”

“I know you do. That’s why I keep doing it.”

Levi almost hopes the cock will actually asphyxiate him the next time it invades his throat. Unconsciousness would be a good remedy—perhaps death even better. Any sort of escape is welcome.

“You’re holding up well,” Beast ironically praises after another prolonged minute of deepthroating. “I’ll reward you for your perseverance. It’s only fair.”

Subjugated under Beast, Levi doesn’t even have a chance to wonder what he’s implying.

When something wet grazes his tip, his back snaps into an arch and his eyes fly open. “Mm!”

“It’s okay,” Beast’s voice murmurs, his lips vibrating against Levi’s cock. “Oral sex is permitted, remember? I never had to specify who the receiver and giver would be.”

Even still, Levi’s horrified. Lips kiss his tip and a tongue comes forth to draw a stripe up his shaft, each touch warm, wet, and frightening. His dick is soft, but the motion of Beast’s mouth is sending blood down there against his will.

This can’t be right. He’s the courtesan here—the performer. He’s here to please a client, not the other way around. Only Erwin pleases him, to some degree. Why would a client care?

Levi feels his cock disappear past Beast’s lips, the member caught in the Beast’s jaws. Hyperventilating nasally, Levi writhes underneath Beast, his limbs slapping against the mattress.

Beast does not let him speak, only whine, as he performs masterfully on Levi’s cock. There’s a perfect blend of suction and pressure along the shaft as Beast’s saliva soaks every centimetre.

It feels good, but it is not good. Pressure builds contrary to the battle in Levi’s mind.

“Ngh!” he cries around Beast’s cock. “Hn—nn-nn…”

“Oh, look at that.” Beast marvels at the stiff rod he’s created. “Your prick has gotten hard for me, Levi. Having fun?”

“Nn-nn! Gh!”

“Maybe it’s scary for you,” Beast coos as he pumps the leaking dick. “But you don’t need to be afraid. I’ll help you come—just trust me.”

Come? The word makes no sense in the sentence Beast said. From the way his client isn’t slowing, though, Levi surmises it must mean he’s going to be brought to orgasm.

Which only doubles the fear. That pressure is building nonstop, soon to boil over with Beast’s assistance. Why now, Levi asks. Why does he have to reach that experience now?

He’s not ready. He’s been so afraid of the feeling that he intentionally stalled, purposefully avoiding it, but it’s going to happen regardless of his willingness. Not now, he wants to yell. He didn’t deny himself just for some client to draw the sensation out first.

He throws hands up and gouges into Beast’s hips, straining to push them away. His fingernails scratch lines before balling into fists and punching against Beast’s pelvis, hammering viciously to drive away his tormentor.

“Mm-mm,” Beast hums around his cock, indifferent to the assault on his legs.

He’s denied escape? That can’t be right.

Levi knows nothing of this world, but he knows that can’t be right.

He should be allowed to go. He should be able to walk out the door at any time, albeit with the loss of a salary. That’s his right as a courtesan.

Isn’t it? Isn’t he allowed to leave?

The House owns him and determines how his body is used, but it has also taught him about his own pleasure. It encourages him to cherish it—to give it to who he wants.

Erwin can have it. Erwin can have his body and his pleasure. Erwin has given him the House and the freedom to explore what life has denied him of previously. Erwin praises every part of his body and holds him on a pedestal higher than any other courtesan.

Beast laughs and jeers at him. Beast taunts the Master and tests his relationship with Levi. Beast is a brute, a cocky ape that degraded Levi to dust and stole his first kiss.

The monster has taken enough from him. He may not take anything else.

Levi feels the pot about to overflow. There is no more time to think; he has to act now.

“Ngh!” Beast groans when his body careens to the side, his head spinning after Levi’s knee slammed into its temple. “Levi—you—”

Levi’s up and scampering to the rear of the bed, clinging to himself with a protective hand hugging his cock. He squeezes it until it hurts, telling his body to resist any further interest in orgasm.

“What was that?” Beast gnarls, finding his feet.

Levi hacks up nothing and swallows it back down, flushing his mouth of the sludge. Balling up, he glares at his client with not a sliver of respect left. “I don’t want to,” he rasps, his damaged voice crawling out of a scratched throat. “I don’t want to orgasm.”

Beast fixes his askew glasses and rubs his head, disappointed with the feral cat that attacked him. “You don’t? Who doesn’t want to orgasm?”

“Me,” Levi insists, the word burning his windpipe. “I don’t have to if I don’t want to, and I don’t want to.”

Beast lurches back to one of the dining seats, staying cautiously far from the wild animal. Collapsing, he tucks his cock back into his trousers and sighs. “Grumpy little thing. What’s so bad about coming?”

Levi claws at some sheets to cover his body and wipes his lips with the flat of his hand. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to.”

“Oh,” Beast realises. “Because you never have.”

Scoffing, Levi huddles against a hill of pillows and refuses to answer.

“That’s startling. No other client wanted to rub your little prick off? Not even the great Master himself?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“I’d think many folks would want to drink up your semen.”

“My—” Levi stops, discovering the new term used for that white fluid. “You—you said it was your soul.”

“Hm?” Beast raises a brow, finding Levi’s confusion odd. “Yes, I did. Your semen carries your soul.”

This sudden lesson is staggering for the pupil to take in. Beast’s lone credibility is his proud aura; someone like him can only operate if they’re sure of everything they’re saying. Levi hates him, but he also trusts that there must be some accuracy in his words.

“Then why the hell would I want to litter it?” Levi bites.

Beast laughs, forgetting about Levi’s attack in favour of mocking his stupidity. “It’s not limited. Your body makes more.”

“What? More soul?”

“In a way. It’s not scarce, if that’s your worry.”

Levi closes his mouth, angry but interrupted by the need to process new knowledge. “Fine,” is all he says while wondering what that means for him.

He can orgasm without problem, theoretically. His semen replenishes, perhaps an internal fountain of infinite soul fueling it. It won’t hurt him to release some.

“Have I reassured you?” Beast tries. “Now that you know how it works, let’s try again—”

“No.” Levi locks up, glaring from behind his knees. “You’ve already taken my first kiss. I’ll handle my damn orgasm on my own.”

“Alright,” Beast surrenders, far less defensive than Levi. “I’m not a rapist.”

Levi silently disagrees.

“You’re welcome to masturbate and orgasm on your own. I’d be happy to merely watch—”

“No.” Levi’s enraged by his insistence. “I’ll get the Master to refund you—fuck, I’ll pay you more on top of that. I don’t care. But I’m not going to orgasm.”

“Stubborn. Almost admirable.” Beast rises, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s no need. The feeling of your body thrashing on my cock was worth the price.”

Anger and disgust mix to shoot out a whiny scoff. Levi clutches his sheets, hoping the threat will leave before he lashes out again.

“I’ll return for you, Levi. By then, I hope you’ve grown up enough to handle coming a few times.”

Levi doesn’t say anything as the client leaves. His nest is safe and, once the door is closed, the playroom becomes a blissful pocket in reality.

He might’ve fucked up by attacking a client like that, but no shred of guilt enters his head. He doesn’t give a shit; he did what he had to to protect himself. Worse crimes have been committed for his own safety.

The only issue is that now there is a governing body watching his actions. He was free to attack foes on the streets, but the House may punish him for his offence. It’s aggravating to think he’s shackled down by the Master’s rules.

Still, whatever he has coming to him won’t matter. He’ll take any punishment over losing more of himself to the Beast. Besides, Erwin doesn’t—

“Levi!”

The Master charges into the room, drawn straight to the canopied bed where his courtesan hides. Levi doesn’t flinch, only watching coolly as Erwin verges his den.

“Levi—it hasn’t even been fifteen minutes. What happened?”

Levi slides his eyes down, averting the Master’s frantic gaze.

“I may have thrown a knee into his head.”

Erwin blinks, Levi’s confession and Beast’s testimony not quite aligning. “He didn’t say you did—he just said he was satisfied and didn’t need the rest of the hour. Did he do anything to you?”

“Nothing bad, really,” Levi admits. “I just didn’t want him to suck on me. So I kicked him.”

“He…gave you oral sex?”

“Yeah. Until I kicked him.”

Erwin sighs, taking a seat at the bed’s edge. “Yes, Levi. You’ve made your crime quite clear. Are you attempting to expedite due process?”

“I’m just telling the truth. I did attack a client.”

“Well, Beast never accused you, and I’m sure you had good reason—”

“Don’t be daft. You have no idea if it was justified or not.”

Erwin accepts that. “No, but I know you have a reasonable way of thinking. Did he do something you didn’t want?”

Levi pauses. “Yeah, he did.”

“And did he stop when you told him to?”

“No.”

“Then you had good reason. If he had wanted to dabble in non-consensual play, he should’ve specified so beforehand. You were justified.”

Unforeseen warmth bubbles in Levi’s chest, Erwin’s words like a bandage over the wound. He’s not in any trouble since the Master interpreted his attack as necessary. Defensive actions are allowed—even encouraged—in the House.

“Thank you,” Levi has to say. He can’t refute how thoughtful his government is. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m here to get fucked. That’s my purpose.”

“It’s your job,” Erwin corrects. “I sell courtesans, not victims. You are still an employee worthy of respect even if your profession is lewd.”

“Hm.” Levi simmers on that answer. This is not the same Erwin he met when he first came to the House. There’s a soft edge to the Master now, and Levi’s not sure if the change is in Erwin’s demeanour or Levi’s perspective.

“Would you like to get cleaned up?”

“…Yeah.”

Levi dons the small burgundy dress and washes his face in the antechamber before requesting to be dismissed. Once freed, he darts upstairs where his teeth are scrubbed until his gums bleed. Dinnertime has long since passed and most of the gentlemen are preparing for bed, but Titus allows Levi a cup of tea when he sees the cat poking around the kitchen.

His small window of isolation isn’t so bad after the day’s events. Beast has a habit of polluting the air, but some time alone allows the lingering dread to dissipate. Clarity returns to Levi’s mind as he sips a warm cup of tea, cogs starting to turn again. He reflects, as he usually does, and he plots his next goal.

The only positive takeaway from Beast’s wicked scene was the understanding that his semen is safe. He has plenty of it—maybe an unlimited amount. There’s no real risk in orgasming and allowing that fluid to escape his body.

Therefore, nothing will stop him. His mind has been alleviated of worry and there is no barrier between his mindset and his orgasm.

He will achieve it on his own. He didn’t attack a client just to give up his first orgasm in some other pathetic context. His nighttime escapade will be repeated, and this time he’ll reach the penultimate sensation.

Chapter Text

Half past three. The room is silent. Levi is motionless, listening for the minutest of sounds in the air around him.

Everybody must be asleep. Now, like before, is the best time to act.

His toes barely touch the floorboards as he floats down the stairs, his pupils dilating in the unlit House. The eerily quiet lounge is ignored in favour of the Master’s office, and in less than a minute Levi has shut himself in the precious room.

There are no eyes to watch him, nobody to judge how freely he strips himself of the dress. It’s left at the door, Levi forgetting about his old clothes in favour of the thrill that awaits him.

He’s back on the desk quickly, slumped on his side with his back to the door and the magic vial in his hands. Bubbling with excitement, he douses his fingertips and reaches for his hole, working to stimulate that first. Giving Beast a mental fuck you, he revels in the absolute independence he has regarding this situation. It’s all his to explore and that mangy shithead gets no part in the glory. This orgasm will be his alone to cherish.

One finger slides in, stimulating his body, and almost instantly the other hand wraps around his cock. He shudders, overwhelming himself and almost laughing at how fast he’s trying to complete this. Savour it, he tells himself. Relish the moment.

He makes his rhythm as slow as Erwin’s, recalling memories of preparation to coach himself. Both hands move at the same speed, teasing his hole and rubbing the length of his cock in slow, rolling motions.

His expression is lax, his eyes half-lidded and his lips parted without any need to wince or scoff. Soft, breathy moans are free to escape him, only his ears present to hear them. This privacy is sublime.

Even his thoughts can run more rampant than usual. Erwin fills the seat he can’t see in the darkness before him, his imaginary eyes watching Levi masturbate all over his mahogany desk. His fictitious voice murmurs syrupy good boy’s and that’s it’s as his submissive puts on a glorious show for his viewing. Heat beams through Levi’s muscles as his fantasy takes flight, his body glazed with sweat and his breaths growing heavy.

“Thank you,” he moans to the invisible Master. “Thank you, Master Erwin.”

There is so much to be grateful for—even Erwin’s generosity turns on Levi. Erwin is the first and only deity in Levi’s life, the pinnacle of safety and lust. Levi has fetishized Erwin’s benevolence, idolising the Master and worshipping him through masturbation.

Levi is extremely, undoubtedly beholden. His god has given him everything life denied him—even life itself. Nothing on this earth can compare to the luxuries Levi can bask in due to Erwin’s power. Power that surpasses the supernatural force of life: celestial, unmatched power.

“Hah!” Levi’s ignited by the thought, shudders running down his spine as his system overloads with pleasure. “Oh—fuck. Master!”

Of course he’s the Master. He’s the messiah that came to save Levi—his title is only fitting.

“M-Master…”

A mighty god, but a kind one. A being that balances authority with affection, ruling with a hand just firm enough to keep Levi devoutly under his wing. Erwin, despite the setting, is good. Gentle. Patient. Indulgent. Beautiful.

“Nh—Erwin!”

A precious name to Levi. A name that riles him every time he hears it, one that gushes warm blood to every corner of his body when he moans it. It’s addicting, absorbing its disciple.

“Yes—fuck yes,” Levi breathes to himself as pressure builds, his head heavy and drunk as he swims in the throes of passion. He’ll reach that peak of ecstasy soon.

The courtesans likely can’t hear him—they’re two storeys up and deep in slumber. Free to celebrate loudly, Levi whirls onto his back and flings his legs open, fisting his cock and shoving fingers in his entrance. He’s nearly there. He’ll expel his soul while dreaming of his god.

“Erwin,” he groans. “Master—Erwin!”

Panting, he looks to the empty chair and the magnolia flower beyond it, using it as a focal point as his orgasm approaches.

Time comes to a screeching halt as Levi freezes up.

…He can see it?

In this darkness, he shouldn’t be able to.

He snaps his head to the door, where the light effuses from a lantern. The lantern, to Levi’s horror, hangs from the fist of Erwin Smith.

Erwin.

Master Erwin.

He’s here.

Levi is motionless, a red hand gripping his cock. “…F-fuck.”

Erwin lifts the lantern to cast revealing light on Levi’s naked, splayed body. “Hm.”

“Fuck,” Levi squeaks again, thunderous tremors wracking his muscles. His heart pounds in his ears, his lust utterly shattered and replaced with fear. “M-Master.”

“Levi.”

Levi crumbles from the sound of his own name. Horrified, he slams palms onto the desktop with harsh thuds, uselessly trying to hide his crime. Staring wide-eyed, he can do nothing but await his inevitable doom.

“I can’t believe I was right.” Erwin leaves the open doorway, treading closer. “Even I thought my theory was far-fetched.”

“No—Master—” Levi shimmies back in a frenzy, slipping right off the desk and crashing into Erwin’s chair. “Fuckfuckfuck—Master—!”

“Yet here you are.” The lantern is placed on the coffee table and the Master continues nearing the desk. “Masturbating into oblivion all over my desk. Moaning my name for the House—no, for the world to hear. What’s gotten into you, Levi?”

“I’msorry,” Levi whines, cramming himself against the backrest.

“For which part?” Erwin wonders. “Breaking curfew?”

“I was just—”

“Stealing supplies directly from my desk?” Erwin’s shadow swallows Levi as he stands in front of the desk, looming over his shrivelled pet.

“Master, please—”

“Or touching yourself without permission?” Broad, strong hands are planted on the desktop, Erwin dipping forward to inspect Levi. “I’ve never seen a courtesan break so many rules at once.”

Erwin’s outline is enormous, a true almighty god that’s come to wield his wrath upon his wrongful follower. His shadowed expression is stern and piercing, dark eyes knifing Levi’s blasphemous body.

Levi wants to flee but he can’t even plant a heel on the ground with how much he’s shaking. He hasn’t felt fear like this in years, not even when his own life was threatened on the streets. It’s bolstered by shame, a wicked blend of terror and guilt tearing into his heart. “Master—I’m sorry!”

“Goodness.” Erwin lowers his head, peering at the trapped prey. “What should I do with you?”

“Please,” Levi whimpers, shrunk into a horrified ball. “Please—I just…I’m sorry…”

“I’ve never been so…disgraced.” Erwin is thrilled with the apt word he’s found, the perfect description of Levi’s crime. He circles the desk, stalking towards his occupied chair. “Nobody has disrespected my authority as brashly as you have.”

“No—Master, I—fuck!” Levi shrieks when the chair is swivelled to face the Master, his balled-up body trapped by Erwin’s enormous frame. Hands have claimed the backrest and an armrest, securing Levi in his cage.

“You know, Levi,” Erwin murmurs as his head nears Levi’s, daring the criminal to maintain eye contact. “I ought to cane you.”

Levi freezes up, his usually dull eyes now blown wide with terror.

“Have you bent over my desk and lashed until every square centimetre of your trembling legs is purple.”

“No—please—”

“Perhaps I’d make you a permanent fixture in the lounge. If you’re so eager to rut, it’s only fitting that anyone would be allowed to use your wanton body.”

Levi wildly shakes his head, hugging his quivering legs. “I don’t want that—please, Master. Please.”

Erwin takes a moment to drink in this sight.

He pities the child, the delinquent that was caught committing the utmost of offences. It’s startling to realise how much control Erwin holds over this boy—punishment by his hands is enough to send Levi into a downright panic. He’s been caught, chastened, and threatened with torture for his sins. He seems on the verge of collapse with how frenetically he’s hyperventilating.

Naturally, he doesn’t want to be punished. All he wanted was to explore the sensations he’s been advertised since he joined the House. Since he met the Master.

Erwin can’t torment his idol any longer. He—as he has from the start—will continue to favour the object of his supreme attraction.

“Of course you don’t want that,” Erwin murmurs, his voice losing its cutting sting. “I already know what you want, Levi. You only said it about a dozen times while beating yourself into a stupor.”

Levi doesn’t know if he should be hopeful or further victimised. Erwin’s words are too testy to trust or interpret. “Wh-what? Ah!” He flinches when Erwin’s hand hugs his waist, slithering to his back.

“Say it again, one more time.” Erwin peels the shaking body from the chair, scooping it up in his arms. “Repeat the name you were so lustful for.”

Doubt consumes Levi, telling him to remain scared and helpless. He has no autonomy with which to make decisions beyond the Master’s orders. He grips Erwin’s lapel and hides his forehead against his clavicle. “Master…Erwin.”

“Oh,” Erwin breathes, serene and pleased, while gazing at the painted magnolia dreamily. “Levi, you’re pitiful. You were simply asking to get caught with how loudly you screamed for me.”

The shift in Erwin is unbelievable. Levi would have nearly preferred the Master remain strict and evil; his sudden daydreamy aura just strikes more terror into the cat. “I-I…”

“Just what should I do with you?” Erwin drifts away from the chair, his body moving on its own whim. “What else can I do when you need me so desperately?”

The lantern is taken along with the boy before Erwin exits his office, leaving the messy desk behind. A lone ember of light passes through the House’s main area, drifting from one door to another. Erwin moves without thinking, his mind lulled and his soul dictating his actions.

“I have no choice,” Erwin concludes as he passes the antechamber into a playroom, one that’s unknown to Levi’s memory. “I have to satisfy you. I can’t let you go hungry.”

The lantern, left on a nightstand, turns the white sheets orange with its beam. Levi is laid back in these sheets, his tremors waning. He doesn’t know what to think. He waits for a cane to be procured, or a whip, or perhaps Erwin’s own fists. There will be an imminent punishment for his transgression, one he will not be able to escape. “Master—I am sorry—”

“The need for apologies has passed.” Erwin tears off his waistcoat in an instant, then his button-up. “All that is left is to take care of you.”

Gasping, Levi is motionless in the sheets as Erwin strips. What’s happening does not equate to a punishment—quite the opposite, he’s startled to realise. As Erwin’s defined torso is freed, Levi catches himself raking eyes over the expanse of muscle and marvelling at the sight. He’s so enamoured, he forgets to be afraid.

“What…” Levi breathes. “What’s…happening…?”

Erwin loses everything below his waist before climbing onto the pristine bed, just as nude as his submissive. “Levi,” he sings. “You’re quite the hypnotist—I can’t even find it in me to be upset with you. I’d let you break any rule to hear you worship me like that.”

“Ah…I…” No words are coming to Levi’s head. As Erwin comes upon him, he fights to break himself out of his stunned paralysis. “Master…”

“So precious.” Erwin hunches over Levi and cups his face, connecting with those small, steely eyes in the lamplight. “Too precious to ignore. I will use you right now—I must.”

A stuttered, breathy exhale slips out of Levi as he brings tense hands to Erwin’s shoulders. “But—I…I messed up.”

“For pleasure, Levi. You snuck into my office, played with yourself, and moaned my name for your own lust. How could I fault you for that?” Erwin strokes a thumb across Levi’s cheekbone, soothing the sinner. “I couldn’t. All I want is to give you more.”

Levi inhales fresh energy, readily believing Erwin whether he should or not. He wants pleasure after being deprived of it for a lifetime. If this deity will give it to him, he must accept. He’s tired of waiting.

“D-don’t…” he stutters, gouging into muscle.

Erwin pauses. Don’t? Does Levi not want this? What, then, is the boy so ravenous for? What else could Erwin possibly give him?

“Levi—”

“Don’t deny me,” Levi finishes. “Don’t you dare end it early this time. Don’t leave me hungry.”

“Ah.” Erwin takes the slender wrists and pins them to the sheets, holding down his feast. “How could I say no to that desperation? You’ll get everything you crave, Levi.”

Levi spills some sound of delight as Erwin’s cheekbone nudges his chin aside, just for his lips to attack Levi’s ready and sensitive neck. “Thankyou,” he whines, electricity spreading from every touch of Erwin’s lips. His toes curl when teeth nibble his skin and he cannot withhold a moan as Erwin viciously sucks into a spot. It’s powerful, nearly primal, and Levi needs more of that raw hunger.

Erwin wholly and consciously ignores any need to keep Levi fresh. He does not care about clients; he will eat up the feast as much as he pleases. He is determined to make this angel happy, and to make it his.

He darkens a spot on Levi’s neck. Then another. And another. Levi pants and squirms in Erwin’s restraints as the Master consumes his neck before descending to his chest, kissing and nipping whichever plot of skin his lips graze.

“Nh—sh-shit—hah—Erwin!” Levi arches his back to present his torso, addicted to Erwin’s mouth. “More—please, Erwin!”

“Who taught you to use my name like that?” Erwin wonders before pecking a line down Levi’s abdomen. “It’s rather exquisite. Nobody but my misbehaving pet calls me that anymore.”

“Nn—I n-need you, Master Erwin.”

“You can’t even decide which title is better.” Erwin presses a kiss on Levi’s tip, sending a jolt of energy up the bottom’s spine. “At this point, neither can I.”

Levi’s wrists are freed so his legs can be folded up, Erwin revealing the undersides of his thighs to consume next. Heavy, dark teeth marks are left by Erwin’s jaws, sunk deep into unblemished skin. Levi winces and moans with every addition, his fingers twisting into the sheets as his head spins with lust.

“You’re delicious, Levi.” Erwin grazes his cheek down Levi’s calf, stroking the toned limb. “And listen to you—absolutely animalistic for me. Not a scrap of decency to protect you.”

Levi shudders as his ankle is nibbled, Erwin leaving no spot untouched. “Sh-shut up. Shut up and—hah—and use me. Please!”

“So demanding,” Erwin scolds in an empty threat. “You never change, do you?”

Unrivalled pleasure explodes in Levi’s hips when Erwin sucks on the skin just above his thigh, gnawing into his sit spot. Erwin is so rough it hurts, but Levi’s far from satisfied. This pain is a translation of pleasure, of the heavenly splendour Erwin is promising him.

“More!” Levi cries.

“I’ll chew into your muscle if I give you more.” Erwin shifts over an inch, purpling an untouched spot. “I’ve already marked up your body excessively. There’s no hope for you to come out of this spotless.”

“Good,” Levi shrieks. “Wreck me. I don’t want anyone else.”

Erwin’s aflame with carnivorous lust, a breathy chuckle filling his lungs. The corners of his parted lips are upturned as he hoists Levi’s thighs and lines his cock between them. “Oh, Levi,” he croons, his shadow engulfing the desperate bottom. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

Levi absolutely does, and he’s violently eager to prove it. “I do.” He throws up his head to see Erwin’s ready cock and his fervour doubles tremendously. “Yes—Erwin, please! I want you—only you. Please—please fuck me!”

“More,” Erwin insists this time.

“Oh, god. Erwin!” Levi bucks his hips up, encouraging the shaft to enter him. “Please fuck me, Erwin, Please. I need you so much. I need you—I need you! Please—hah!”

“Irresistible,” Erwin groans as he slides inside, his cock easily filling Levi. He’s hilted in an instant, buried deep in the ecstatic bottom.

“Thank you, Erwin.” Levi flings his head back, fixated on the warm and heavy shaft loaded into him. “It feels so good.”

Erwin exhales gruffly, rubbing firm hands up Levi’s thighs. The small legs quiver under his grasp, the proportional ass hugging his cock. Levi feels and looks ethereal, quenching a thirst that has nagged at Erwin’s soul for an eternity.

Levi shudders as the shaft rolls back, the void in his insides almost painful. “Backinbackin—please!”

“No patience,” Erwin tsks as he nevertheless grants the wish. As he fills the bottom, he tosses his head up and relishes the melody of Levi’s breathy, thankful moan. “I suppose I sympathise, though. Beast was right—I don’t play with anyone here but you.”

Levi’s tented eyebrows furrow. “Don’t. Say. His fucking. Name.”

Even Levi’s anger arouses Erwin. “I’m sorry, Levi. I don’t even want you to think about anybody but me.”

“Nh—”

“So only think of me from now on. Say my name, Levi. Say it until you’re hysteric.”

“Hah!” Levi cries, tossing hands back to grip the sheets as Erwin thrusts into him again. “Master—nh—Master Erwin!”

The Master is soaking inside his treasure, his cock easily rolling in and out of the entrance. He pins Levi’s knees to his thin shoulders and finds a deep, gentle tempo, savouring the taste of his worshipping disciple. Heat swirls in his pelvis with each outcry of his name, his stoicism fading while the primal need to fuck conquers his mind.

“Levi.” He keels over the small body, his eyes boring into Levi’s expression and his hips gyrating effortlessly. “Oh, what did I do to deserve you?”

Whining, Levi’s head lolls aside as his body rocks with Erwin’s. “Master,” he moans. “I—hn—ah…”

“Eloquent answer,” Erwin mocks. “But it suits me. If you came to me for pleasure, I’ll provide it.”

“F-fuck!” Levi curses whinily, kicking heels into Erwin’s torso. He vises the ribcage and shoots hands to Erwin’s biceps, clamping onto the Master’s body. “Would you shut the fuck up?!”

Erwin slows down a hair, a curious grin on his face. “What’s the matter?”

“J-just—” Levi stammers, lifting hips that want the cock to speed up. “Just fuck me. Shut up and fuck me.”

Erwin’s fire is stoked to a wicked blaze, his system burning and eager to obey. “If you insist.”

He rips himself out of Levi but makes sure the bottom has no time to panic before he’s flipped over, perched on his knees and chest as Erwin lines up again.

“Fuck!” Levi whines when he’s slammed full again, his body jolted forward an inch. “Oh—gh—hah!”

Erwin’s vicious, gouging fingers into tiny hips and pummelling Levi’s frame. Levi’s calves quake against his, every muscle in the bottom’s body feeble and useless. The street cat is helplessly addicted to the Master, offering his body with no shame protecting it. He’s free, drinking up sexual ecstasy with debauchery that astounds even the libertine Master.

Erwin silently apologises for piercing the veil of this lamb, but he’s already passed the point of no return. There’s nothing left to do but shower the deity in perverted, filthy degeneracy.

Doubling over, Erwin blankets Levi’s frame with his full weight, brutishly grinding into the body that can barely keep itself propped up. He wraps an arm along Levi’s ribcage and claws a hand into his pectoral while his other finds the bottom’s stiff cock.

“Ngh—yes!” Levi shrieks. “I want to—hah!”

Erwin presses groaning lips against Levi’s shoulder as he pumps the leaking cock, fucking and rubbing Levi into madness. Sweat lubricates their fused bodies, the heat of either supplementing its partner.

“Erw—ah! Erwin!” Levi feels like he could cry from pleasure. His biceps quake before buckling, his face avalanching into the sheets. “Nn—mm!”

“Finally, Levi,” Erwin promises, his hand enormous and fast around the small cock. “All the—ngh—pleasure in the world.”

Levi’s fingers furrow into the sheets, his knuckles even whiter than usual. He’s very, very ready. The time is ripe, as if the universe has been preparing for aeons to witness this moment. As his body succumbs, Levi enters a new, glorious realm of splendour, tapping into an untouched thrill that he prays will never wane.

“Erwin!” he screams into the sheets. “I—”

His soul escapes him before his words can. Semen flies onto the sheets, finally leaving his system for the first time thanks to Erwin’s manipulation. He whines as Erwin rubs his cock raw, draining him while using his entrance before the boy truly goes limp.

“Good boy.” Erwin is holding Levi’s weight, pounding into the bottom to reach his own orgasm. “That’s my—my good boy.” With heavy grunts, Erwin twists his eyelids shut and rams until his cock gives in to the sensation of Levi’s tight, trembling insides.

He comes, damn near crushing Levi’s ribcage while emptying himself into the pretty body. A sharp, “Hah!” is exhaled into Levi’s ear, then Erwin finds the decency to relax his grip and safely descend the peak. “Oh, Levi. Levi.”

They pant together, catching their breath like weary animals. Erwin remembers to support Levi’s weight, his muscles surviving just enough in the wake of his activity.

“Erwin…” Levi does nothing to help Erwin lower him to the sheets, his body sapped of energy. Fatigued hums dribble out of his throat as he’s guided onto his back and his head rolls aside.

Taking even breaths, Erwin kneels beside Levi and strokes the bottom’s calf, evaluating the sinner that has just entered heaven. He draws fingers through whatever semen hasn’t soaked into the sheets and indulges himself in the taste of Levi’s soul.

Witnessing with half-lidded eyes, Levi sighs. “Gross.”

“No,” Erwin denies. “It’s delicious.”

“Hm.”

“How are you feeling?”

Levi throws a forearm over his brow, shielding his eyes from the lamplight. “Good.”

“I’m glad. Wait here. I’ll get you cleaned up—”

“No,” Levi mumbles. “Fuck, just…hold on.”

Erwin grins as a tiny hand paws at his enormous thigh. “Alright. Would you like me to lay with you?”

“Good grief.” Levi reels Erwin down to his level, making the Master lie flat. “You talk too much.” He huddles his body around Erwin’s arm, clinging to a single limb with whatever strength he has left.

“Perhaps.” Erwin crosses his free hand over to rest on Levi’s shoulder, his eyes stuck on the ceiling. “Thank you very much, Levi. I thoroughly enjoyed that.”

“Mmhmm.” Levi buries his face in Erwin’s bicep.

“Did you?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good.” Erwin turns on his side, drawing Levi’s body into his chest. “You deserve it.”

“I don’t,” Levi replies sleepily. “I break rules.”

Warm hands slide down Levi’s spine, feeling each vertebra. “I can’t seem to care. Life’s been cruel enough to you; I would like to end that cycle.”

“Mm.”

“Get some rest, Levi. I’ll be here the whole time.”

Levi doesn’t even respond, succumbing to the comfort of Erwin’s embrace. He’s exhausted for once, depleted in a way that’s vastly different from the strenuous nights on the streets. It’s a good sort of fatigue, one that leaves his body floating and tranquil. He’s never wanted to fall asleep more, and the situation has never been so welcoming of the idea.

Ignoring hygiene, decorum, and his own insecurities, Levi disappears in Erwin’s arms and drops off almost instantly. Erwin listens to his smooth, even breathing, and he stays absolutely still to not wake him. He’s not as susceptible to slumber, but he spends an hour in the glory of Levi’s presence before it takes him, too.

As if it’s any other domestic relationship, they sleep soundly with each other in a shared bed. Their minds and souls were meant for this and nothing else; they seem to be destined for this connection like subjects of a legendary painting. They’re fused together all night, interwoven in wordless union.

Chapter Text

Erwin winces as he hears the door squeak open, followed by a breathy, “Sh-shit.”

“What?” A pause. “…Oh.”

Fresh lamplight breathes on his eyelids, telling him to wake up and address the intruders. He peels his eyes open and cranks his head to peer at the doorway. Russell’s there, Quincy with him. They must be here to clean the room. Go away, he wants to tell them. You’re going to disturb the sleeping boy.

“Master,” Russell utters, staying firmly on the outskirts of the room. “Excuse my language, you startled me. What…what are you—”

“What’s the time, Russell?” Erwin is naked and lazy, but nobody would dare judge the Master for his condition. He’s welcome to be as carefree as he wants.

“Just after nine.”

Good. Nobody’s scheduled to use the Ivory Room until eleven.

“Leave the lamp, and clean this room last. Quincy, I want a fresh set of clothing for myself and Levi delivered here.”

“Okay, Master.” Quincy’s already backpedalling out of the room as if he stumbled onto his parents having sex.

Russell hangs the lamp on a coat hook, cautiously watching the naked couple. “Is everything alright, Master?”

“Fine.” Erwin tucks Levi’s lax head into his chest. “Leave us be.”

“Understood.” Russell steps out, gently shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes pass in privacy. Erwin lets Levi sleep, debating on whether he should cancel bookings for this room just to keep it reserved for the two of them. He nearly forgets about any other duties he has in favour of this boy’s comfort.

There’s no need. Soon, Levi stirs, his heavy eyelids lifting as he breathes life into his baptised body. He drags hands against the torso in front of him to remember who it belongs to, then the memories of mere hours ago seem to trickle back into his head. “Fuck,” he sighs, just as sluggish as Erwin.

“Levi.” Erwin’s voice rumbles his chest, vibrating against Levi’s cheek. “Good morning.”

“Mm,” Levi hums.

“Sleep well?”

“Sure.” Grimacing and sick of facing another day, Levi buries a hand in the sheets and hoists himself onto his arm. His hair is frazzled, black locks pointing every which way. Dark spots and teeth marks dot his body, only his face clear of Erwin’s branding.

He looks damn good, Erwin thinks.

Levi rubs his nose. “I smell awful.”

“No, you don’t.” Erwin holds Levi’s forearm, the closest body part to him. “Once you’re ready, we’ll go bathe. I had Quincy fetch us some clothes.”

“Fuck, they saw us?”

“Of course.”

Levi looks to the doorway, anxious about the activity beyond. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Erwin doesn’t share his anxiety. “What’s bad about two people having sex in the Magnolia House?”

“We’re not just two people. We’re the Master and…I don’t know. Me.”

“All the more reason.” The mattress shifts with Erwin as he sits up, his body heavy and enormous next to Levi’s. “I’m free to do what I’d like in my House.”

“Still.” Levi brings his gaze away from Erwin’s intimidating shadow.

“Don’t fret, Levi. You won’t be ostracised because of this.” Acting on his own whim, Erwin pulls Levi onto his lap without thinking to ask. “The worst aspect is that I’ll have to discount your services because you’re marked up.”

“Such a handsy pervert,” Levi grumbles as his thighs hug Erwin’s. He looks over his own body, squinting at the deep marks in the low light. “You really fucked me up, too.”

“Yes, after you ignored almost every rule in this House. Who’s the bigger offender here?” Erwin prods at a spot near Levi’s knee, pleased to see the boy twitch and grunt in response.

“We’re even, then,” Levi fights to say evenly as light pain needles in his thigh. “You got to use me and now I’m sold for cheaper.”

“You act as though you didn’t enjoy it too.” Erwin coasts a hand up Levi’s back and presses his lips against untouched acreage on Levi’s chest. “What did you say last night? ‘Don’t leave me hungry’?”

Levi gasps as his skin is pinched between Erwin’s teeth. “Nh—shut up—”

“More, you cried. Over and over.” A tongue runs along the fresh mark, then lips kiss it, then the mouth moves to another clean area.

“Gh—” Levi withholds whines as Erwin sucks and gnaws at his shoulder. He grasps Erwin, consenting to and pushing through the heavy stimulation. “I was j-just—”

“You screamed for me to fuck you until you were delirious. Isn’t that right?”

Levi shudders at the sound of Erwin’s vulgar speech, falling victim to a second round of arousal. “Maybe,” he whispers, leaning into the kiss Erwin presses in his jugular notch.

“So resistant to the truth.” A line is pecked up Levi’s neck until the wickedly sensitive spot under the corner of his jaw is attacked.

“Hn—ah, Erwin!” Levi is burning now, melting as Erwin’s teeth and lips electrify him.

“Right?” Erwin whispers against wet skin.

“R-right. Yes! Erwin—please—”

“Good.” Erwin nuzzles a cheek against Levi’s. “It’s important to me that you enjoy it. I’m failing if I’m not giving you pleasure.”

“Keep going,” Levi grouses, squirming on Erwin’s lap.

“Not now. We need to get this room cleaned up.” Hands hold the small waist, convincing the body to sit still. “Another time, I promise.”

“Fine.” Levi presses his forehead against Erwin’s, finding the strength to collect himself. “Don’t break that promise.”

“I wouldn’t. I want you, too.”

With their lips this close, Levi expects something, but Erwin doesn’t notice.

“Let’s go to the wash basin. There’s—”

“Wait.” Levi brings hands up to cup Erwin’s face. “One more thing. Please.”

Erwin halts. “What is it?”

Annoyed by the Master’s oblivion, Levi grunts. “Well—I want to…kiss. Can we kiss?”

For some reason, Erwin has remained blind to that notion. He cannot easily remember the last time he’s kissed someone—any intimate sessions are typically just evaluations of new clients. He does not think to kiss them.

“A kiss?” Erwin checks. “Why do you want to?”

“Because,” Levi stresses, like Erwin should already know. “That’s…what people do, I think. I mean, Beast doesn’t count, but people kiss when they’re in love.”

“Love?” The word slams into Erwin like a bullet. He wasn’t expecting a declaration so heavy. “You think…we’re in love?”

Levi, equally as confused, narrows his gaze. “…Yeah?”

Levi’s too confident for someone so naive, Erwin thinks. He doesn’t understand the nuance yet, so he must be taught.

“I merely gave you pleasure,” Erwin counters. “Which made you feel good, so you felt lust. It’s not the same thing as—”

“How daft do you think I am?” Levi shifts back onto his haunches. “You think I love you just because we fucked?”

Erwin’s appalled by Levi’s sharp tongue, but he’s more startled by his stubbornness. He doesn’t know what to say under that claim.

“I’d be in love with every client if that were the case. You’re the Master, Erwin. It’s way different.”

That makes some sense. Erwin has done more for Levi than other clients—or anyone ever, really. Even feeding and sheltering the boy alone has put him on a higher pedestal than virtually everyone.

Appreciation is a reasonable emotion to feel in response to that. Even adoration. But love?

The sort of love between a man and his wife? That has remained foreign to the sodomite. Anything to do with a man and his husband is disgusting on the tongue and rots the mind. To save his level head, Erwin chooses not to think about it.

He’s aggrandized his sexuality in the illustrious walls of the House where fornication between the same sex is holy. This is his church, and his method of worship is by facilitating the network of sodomites like him and giving them full power over their sexuality. Sex is his forte and life.

He knows nothing of love. Sex is simple: two bodies merge, stir pleasure, and sing in harmonious ecstasy. Love persists, and binds people together, and survives even in the face of adversity. Love dares the Master to take his sinful disposition further.

For years, he has stayed safely on the shoreline. He does not want to explore the waters.

“Excuse me,” Levi grunts. “Did you die or something?”

“No.” Erwin squeezes Levi’s thighs, grounding himself. “Forgive me. I was lost in thought.”

“Clearly.” The sting doesn’t leave Levi’s voice, but his eyes emanate concern as they examine Erwin’s face. “I didn’t mean to scare you so much. I thought you knew everything.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Erwin protests. “Nor did you scare me. I just…had to think.”

“About love?” Levi’s hands are confident on Erwin’s jaw, unusually so. “What’s there to think about?”

Erwin cannot grasp Levi’s indifference. How does the street cat show no worry about the deep, traumatic emotion?

“It’s…it’s love, Levi. That’s not something you feel for just anyone.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Right now, I only feel that way for you.”

Erwin can’t stop the tiny shudder that dances down his spine. “But it’s serious. Very serious. It’s—”

“Yes, I know.” Levi’s just not catching on.

“Do you? Do you know what love is?”

There’s a pause. Levi’s eyes drift aside and his hands drop to Erwin’s chest. “Okay, no. I don’t know anything.”

“Then—”

“But I am feeling something. It’s not my dick getting hard or anything; it’s something. It’s serious and special and all the shit you’re warning me of. I know I’m feeling something. Are you really going to sit there and tell me that I’m completely wrong?”

Erwin keeps his jaw shut lest he spill any more uncertain resistance. Levi’s so sure—so resolutely sure! Levi is not keen on labels and definitions, but he hides nothing of his feelings. Even if they’re ambiguous, they exist. Undefinable, but real.

“I don’t know,” is Erwin’s final answer, and it’s spoken just above a whisper.

“Hm.” Levi feathers fingertips along Erwin’s cheekbone for less than a second. “Poor thing.”

Erwin cannot even question the implication of that title before Levi’s climbing off him, the courtesan appearing to run away from the conversation.

“Levi.”

“Let’s not wreck your brain, Master. Quit panicking over it.” Levi slinks into the antechamber, calling an end to the tension.

Erwin, naked and utterly baffled, can only sigh in his isolation.

Levi needs to block out the last few minutes from his memory. He’s magnetised to the wash basin, wasting no time in squatting down and scrubbing off the sweat and other fluids from last night. He dries off and dresses quickly, taking the smaller of the two outfits left in the antechamber and wrapping up his body in the startlingly pleasant outfit. He dons everything from a loose poet shirt to buttoned slacks and even a clean pair of well-fitted socks. Once his face is washed and his hair combed, he actually looks like a normal member of society.

Albeit dotted in purple marks that peek out from under his shirt. He likes the look of them—the obvious sign that the Master worshipped him thoroughly. Not many can take pride in that.

He jumps when Erwin enters, his fingers twitching upon a purple spot they’re inspecting. Erwin takes a mental note of Levi’s reaction to the marks before taking his clothes.

“That shirt suits you. I’ve never seen you so refined.” Erwin does as he’s told and quits panicking—he finds a different conversation to begin.

“You’ve never bothered to give me refined clothing.” Levi glares at the mirror, knifing Erwin’s reflection.

“Perhaps so.” Erwin finds the sleeves of his button-up while he ponders. “Aren’t you going to lace up the collar? You’re showing a lot of skin otherwise.”

“So?” Levi puts a hand over the mark he was inspecting. “Half your men walk around naked. Having a bit of my chest out is nothing.”

“You’d have jumped at the opportunity to make yourself decent a week ago.”

“Things change.” Levi whips around, sticking his hips against the counter’s edge. “Are you complaining? I thought you’d want everyone to see how much you destroyed me.”

“I do,” Erwin confesses as he buttons the line down his abdomen. “Though you seem to want that more.”

“There’s no point in hiding it.” Levi unabashedly watches Erwin dress himself, bidding farewell to the massive thighs that make for a pleasant seat. “I’m fucked anyways. Your boys already know.”

“You sound anxious about that.” Erwin does up the buttons of his slacks and tucks his shirt into them. “I told you, you aren’t going to be an outcast. You can go out now and see while I finish getting ready.”

Levi folds his arms, hugging himself. “No. I’ll wait.”

“Why’s that?” Erwin crosses to the sink, twisting on the flow of water. “Do you need me to hold your hand again?”

“Don’t mock me. One of us has to be ready to explain and it’s not going to be me.”

Erwin washes his face, checks the layer of stubble on his chin, then searches the cabinets for pomade. “There’s nothing to explain. We had sex.”

Levi winces at the excessive daub of pomade Erwin scoops up from a tin. “I’m so glad you don’t give a shit, but I do.”

“It’s good to know that you do. It shows you care about what they think.” Large hands glide across Erwin’s scalp, flattening his short hair into a perfect dome. “You don’t want to be rejected from your newest family.”

Levi tsks. “I wouldn’t call those shitheads family.”

“No?”

“No.”

Erwin thoroughly washes his hands, evaluating his appearance in the mirror throughout. “Very well.”

When the Master finishes his lengthy morning routine, he guides his latest plaything back into the main room, where needy customers are being swooned by charming employees. It’s quieter than usual, but activity will thrive soon.

Descending into the lounge, Levi conducts a cautious scan of the faces that spectate his entry. Erwin’s behind him, and Erwin’s stamp is covering his chest. Nobody is oblivious to what he’s been through, but all remain unrevealing in their reaction. He can’t tell what one single fucker is thinking.

With a face knotted in frustration, Levi sits tensely on the emptiest couch he can find. He glances at Erwin, who’s stopped to welcome back a frequent client, before sweeping the lounge again.

“Well,” Kirk slams himself down beside Levi, close enough so their hips touch. With an arm thrown across the backrest, he cocks his head at the boy that’s undergone some sort of sexual ascension. “Did you have fun?”

Levi cringes as his shirt is peeled back by the grabby courtesan. “Stop it.”

“You must’ve. The Master isn’t a novice.” Kirk rubs a finger along Levi’s bruised collarbone until his hand is fiercely slapped away. “Well done, Levi. What’d you do to make the Master so horny for you?”

“Nothing.” Levi keeps his shirt on his shoulders but he doesn’t try to exhaustively cloak his skin. He’s okay with one or two marks showing. “It was just sex.”

“The Master doesn’t just have sex. You must be pretty special for him to want you.”

“Maybe his favourite,” Jules chimes in from their perch on the pit’s stairs.

“I’m not his favourite.” Levi wastes no time shooting down the suggestion.

“You’ve got to be. Master!” Jules calls. “Is Levi your favourite?”

“Fuck—shut up, Jules.” Levi’s about to leap up and thwack his bunkmate. “He doesn’t—”

“Language, Levi.” Erwin’s seated beside the client now, holding a list of requests the man has given him. “And please keep the volume to a minimum, Jules.”

“Well?” Jules stresses, clawing for the answer. “Is he?”

Erwin spares Levi a glance, albeit a prolonged one. “That’s what last night would imply, I admit.”

“No,” Levi protests. “I’m not—not your favourite.” He is, easily, but he doesn’t want to be. That title is a surefire way of being set apart from the others. Envy of his title will turn to hatred, and nobody will want to associate with him. He doesn’t want to be rejected by the population of a brothel a second time.

“He just said you were,” Jules says.

“I’m not.”

Across the lounge, Erwin sighs. “You are, Levi. Take hold of that fact instead of hiding from it.”

“See?” Jules is triumphant, to Levi’s dismay. “Everybody meet: the Master’s favourite.”

“Stop it, Jules.” Out of the corner of his eye, Levi sees Russell. Some of the other courtesans are here, too, taking in the marked, advertised courtesan. The sound of such a title is nice, but the consequences are horrible. They will covet him. They watch now, envious.

“The favourite, hm?” Kirk’s eyes narrow, almost confirming Levi’s fear. “Quite the title.”

“Kirk,” Levi blurts out, cautious eyes snapped onto judgmental ones. “I don’t agree, you know. I—”

“Kirk, Levi.” Russell joins the conversation with a tone that holds either subject in place, his presence like a supervisor enforcing the Master’s will. “Is there something wrong with what Jules said?”

Seated next to a seemingly jealous enemy, Levi tenses. Absolutely, something is wrong—there aren’t supposed to be favourites in a House full of sexual labour and consensual fickleness. He’s fucked, especially so when the Master is disinterested in coming to his aide. It’s just him and the hungry, snarling wolves.

“Isn’t the Master allowed to have sex here, too? And if he decides one individual suits his interests, where’s the fault in that?” Russell seems to rest his gaze heavier on Kirk, cautioning the courtesan against showing any more disapproval. “It’d be asinine to suggest the Master has fewer rights than our clients—after all, they’re free to pick favourites. It’s well within the Master’s prerogative to choose someone to frequent like they do.”

Kirk sighs, fidgeting with a crooked earring. “Relax, Russell. I was just commenting on something out of the ordinary.”

To Levi, Kirk has confirmed that this title isn’t common—perhaps it’s never been bestowed before. Though the spirit of the House approves, Levi’s still disrupting the normalcy by ascending to a new, untouched tier within the imaginary ranks of his housemates. It is allowed, but it is foreign, and thus it will upset those that prefer the expected.

“I’m speaking to Levi, too.” Russell absentmindedly notices a wilted magnolia amongst its siblings and plucks it from the bouquet. “Feeling shameful about that title is an insult to the Master. Embrace the praise he’s given you.”

“I couldn’t,” Levi mutters, duelling against Kirk’s untelling gaze. “It’s—it’s rude to you all. The Master and I had sex, for pity’s sake. It’s screwed up.”

“Why?” Jules doesn’t get it. “Do you really think it’s wrong to have sex with the Master?”

“Yes.” Levi loses the staring contest with Kirk and switches to Jules instead. “He’s the Master. He’s coveted.”

Jules laughs at the notion. “To you, maybe.”

“The hell?”

“We’re not all desperate to have sex with him,” Jules says. “He’s kind—and pretty—but it’s not like we have a constant hard-on for him. I think you’re the only one here that’s dying to have him.”

“I am not,” Levi gnarls.

“Hey, don’t worry. He’s all yours!” Jules promises. “We don’t get jealous here. You can bang Master to your heart’s content—if he consents, obviously.”

To confirm with the strongest naysayer, Levi eyes Kirk one more time. Ice chills the air between them, suggesting no shred of understanding. Levi feels himself cower, the worst of his fears confirmed in the expression of one reluctant coworker.

“We don’t get jealous,” Kirk echoes, though his voice is unexpressive and plain. “Nobody belongs to anybody here.”

“I know.” Levi has chosen to take a route of deference, bearing no arms against his opponent. Going on the offensive will not work to his benefit in this situation. “It was just sex.”

“Yeah.” Rising, Kirk sheds his discomfort and puts his mind elsewhere. “It was.”

He leaves the lounge, brushing by Russell as he goes. Russell senses his dismayed aura and furthermore recognises the worry in Levi’s eyes.

“Don’t mind him,” he assures. “There’s nothing wrong with what you did.”

Levi folds his arms, hugging himself and forcing Russell’s words through the wall of denial in his head. Sex is okay, he tells himself. As long as it is just sex, there is no issue.

He feared ostracisation because he believed everybody would be as lustful as him for the blond god, but none are. They appreciate the Master yet they don’t want to claim him for themselves the way Levi does. Levi riles the Master, and the Master riles him, so they have sex just like every other encounter in this House.

Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe Erwin should’ve been trusted from the start. This House has always been accepting of his sexuality and desires—why would it stop now?

So, he digresses. He mumbles a half-assed apology to Russell and Jules before shifting back on the couch, needing a moment out of the spotlight to process. He stays in the lounge as clients and courtesans come and go, and eventually he’s rejuvenated enough to make dull conversation with anyone that stumbles upon him.

The marks are already visible and obvious, so folks ask about them. He starts shy, but guided dialogue from his housemates teaches him to take pride in them. Soon, he smugly explains how the Master gave them to him and, though he won’t say it himself, his fellow courtesans advertise how he’s definitely become the Master’s favourite.

That alone turns Levi into a deluxe offer. They might as well have a crier proclaiming how rare and special this courtesan is: Come try the services of Levi! The Master enjoyed him, and you will too.

It works. Erwin barely has time to wipe his desk of dried lubricant before one client knocks. In the middle of booking a session, another raps on the door. He has no time to focus on what to do about Levi’s sense of love when his day is filled with requests and preparations. Clients want to know about Levi through his latest user, asking about his sweet spots or what he does best. The Master conjures a different lie every time.

The following day, Levi has an appointment so early in the morning, he can’t even make time to see Erwin between breakfast and his client. No anal sex was requested, so he has no need to prepare anyways.

The appointment isn’t so bad—Levi’s actually quite grateful for the way the client stays dressed and simply wants to poke at his marks. He allows it, even if the thumbs rubbing him press to the point of aching pain. He’s felt worse.

Levi’s dressed and back in the lounge immediately after, searching for Erwin. He’s still hungry for the Master, his satiation dissipating in just one day. He wants to repeat that evening.

Erwin’s not in the lounge. He’s still in the office, speaking with a client.

At dinner, Levi sees Erwin, and he truly wants to talk to him, but scrambling up to the Master and begging for more sex feels ridiculous—especially in front of his peers. Erwin leaves with a gentle farewell to his favourite courtesan, but makes no offer of another promiscuous encounter.

When the next day comes, Levi hurries to the Master’s office before his back-to-back appointments. Two appointments in one day warrants a bit of attention from Master Erwin, certainly.

“Hey.” Levi has found Erwin at his desk and wastes no time begging. “Help me prepare.”

“You’re capable of doing it yourself by now.” Erwin pauses, losing track of the number he was trying to count in the coins on his desktop. Sighing, he pushes the pile to the side and starts over. “I observed as much when you were lewdly splayed on my desk.”

“Still, I want help.”

“I have work to do—as do you. At this point, it’s part of your duties to prepare yourself.”

Levi’s upset. “What’s the problem? You don’t want me anymore?”

“I do.” Erwin truly does, but he’s not braced to tackle Levi’s feelings quite yet. He doesn’t know what to do with them, and he does not want to enter a foggy situation unprepared. “For now, let’s give it some time. I want you to focus on your duties for a few days and give me some time to think.”

“How much time? I won’t wait forever, Erwin. I want to—”

There’s a knock at the door, then a request to enter from one of the courtesans. Levi gives up—right now, he won’t win against the current of business trickling into the office. Besides, if he stalls any longer, he’ll run out of time to prepare himself, which will make the appointments extremely unpleasant.

He leaves, choosing to follow Erwin’s order out of desperate spite. If the damn Master says so, he’ll perform phenomenally. He’ll do every single goddamn duty for a few days, so the Master had better get through the ridiculous thinking he needs to do.

His two appointments pass with ease. He’s not bashful, instead rather proud of giving his used body. You’re too late, he wants to sneer at the clients. Erwin already marked me up. He’ll do it again, soon.

That pride dwindles when he soothes himself in the bathtub and recalls Erwin’s avoidance. It’s hard to proudly attach yourself to someone who’s too preoccupied to satisfy you again. Erwin—except for his deceitful performance as a charismatic Master—has been tense ever since they woke up.

No, ever since Levi asked to kiss. That was the mistake.

He silently apologises to nobody for saying that. Upsetting the Master wasn’t what he wanted—he simply wanted to connect with his idol the way he’s seen other partners do so. He can’t comprehend how sex isn’t taboo here, but kissing is.

That’s not right, either. It’s the reason behind the kiss, the why. His stupid, stupid love is the problem, even though he can’t see why. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong.

Levi watches courtesans undress and wash up in the washroom, picking one of them to consult.

“Russell.”

He whispers to the Dominant in the tub beside his. Russell has a little more maturity than some of the other boys and a few more years of life under his belt. He’ll be the most reasonable.

“Levi.” Russell shifts to the tub’s edge, attentive to his housemate.

Levi hunches forward, hugging his legs under the water’s surface. “This is a stupid question,” he prefaces. “But do people fall in love here? I mean, clients or courtesans. Does that happen?”

Russell’s not startled by the question—he’s completely accepting of Levi’s concern. “It happens,” he answers, unplugging the drain to his tub. “Sometimes clients mistake obsession for love. They send gifts to the gentlemen and beg to marry them. I think some of them get rather manic about it.”

So Levi’s obsessed. Manic.

Great.

“I’ve never seen courtesans fall in love with each other, nor with a client, but I’m not acutely aware of every single thing that goes on here.” Russell hoists himself out of the water, sitting his naked body on the wooden shelf that connects the two tubs. “It might happen.”

“It seems like it doesn’t,” Levi presumes, investigating each passing face.

“It could be happening right now.” Russell investigates only Levi’s face, learning what desires hide behind his eyes. “You wouldn’t ask this out of the blue, would you?”

Levi’s quiet. No, he wasn’t necessarily subtle, but he still doesn’t want his foolishness discussed openly.

“It’s clear that he’s important to you.” Russell doesn’t ask anything direct, which placates his touchy therapy client. “And you’re important to him. Those marks prove as much.”

“All they prove is that he was horny.”

“Still, that’s a step further than most. Besides meeting us, the Master doesn’t have sex with his gentlemen. You’re the only one he’s screwed twice.”

Levi makes a note of that—he’s fortunate enough to be a repeat feast for Erwin. It does set him apart, but it doesn’t mean anything.

“Don’t get my hopes up.” Levi’s tiny, balled-up, and drowning in a sphere of discouragement.

“I won’t.” Russell puts a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t read his mind, so I don’t know what he’s thinking. All I can say is that you—obviously—are his favourite. He wants you to know that you’re special.”

“Hm.” Levi doesn’t shrug him off.

“You must know, and you should show him that. I don’t know him well, but I know he’ll appreciate your appreciation.” Russell pauses, coming up with a new avenue to explore. “If you want, you can make your attachment to him a part of your job.”

“I already do,” Levi responds. “You told me how to show off the marks.”

“There’s more than that.” Russell rises, reaching for a towel. “When you’re done bathing, come talk to me in the quarters. I want to give you some advice.”

“Sure.” Levi sinks back as he watches his therapist leave. He wants to know anything that can lessen the gap between him and Erwin, even if it seems to diverge into his work instead.

Besides, Russell is reliable. Levi sees the courtesan speaking with Erwin often, perhaps a sort of advisor for the king. Russell has a steady flow of clients—clients that differ strongly in preference from the clients Levi draws in—but he manages to satisfy them well. He definitely knows what he’s doing.

The following day, Erwin is abruptly and urgently summoned from his office by Russell. In the open doorway, he eyes a focused Russell with intrigue.

“What is it?”

“Firstly, I want to apologise. I may have screwed up your favourite courtesan.”

“Is that so? What happened?”

“Nothing intimate,” Russell assuages, to Erwin’s surprise. There should be no need to clarify something like that in a House where sex and polyamory is rampant. “But I did speak with him and taught him something new. He’s…well, a quick learner. I suggest you see what he’s doing in the lounge.”

With an interest wholly peaked, Erwin follows Russell’s orders. He heads to the lounge, embarrassingly antsy to know what’s happened to his pet.

Amongst others, Levi is there, talking with a client and daring him to do a better job than the Master.

“You can try,” Levi taunts. “Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll let you use me. Otherwise, you can sit at the other end of the room and jerk yourself off while I watch. It all depends on you.”

Erwin’s baffled—that’s not at all how appointments work. Clients make requests and the courtesan fulfils them. Still, the listening customer seems to really enjoy Levi’s domineering challenge. To Erwin’s surprise, Levi’s leading the conversation.

“Levi,” he calls.

Levi glances up at the blond king that’s come to his side. “See?” He shoots a thumb at the Master. “That’s what you’re competing with. You might as well just write masturbation on your request list—you won’t be worthy of anything else.”

“O-oh,” the client stammers, holding his breath and concealing his bulge. He’s obsessed with the degradation.

Levi ignores the man he’s set on fire in favour of Erwin. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. To talk with you.” Erwin takes a place beside Levi, looking over the transformed courtesan. “I didn’t expect to stumble onto this. Have you become a Dominant overnight?”

“No.” Levi’s irritated by the idea. “I’m just…insulted. These customers think they’re interesting enough for me to want them, but I really don’t—excuse me,” he suddenly snaps at the client.

“Wh-what?”

“Don’t just stare. It’s creepy. Keep your eyes pinned to the magnolias if you have to look at something.” Levi points at the bouquet centrepiece, and the client instantly obeys.

Erwin, contrarily, is wide-eyed at Levi. “This is staggering, even for you.”

“I’m just not shy anymore. That’s all.”

“So I have sex with you, and then you’re completely on top of the world?”

Levi shrugs. “Something like that. Russell said I can lean into being the favourite, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“It’s effective. I won’t deny it.” Erwin isn’t quite aroused by the sight of Levi as a Dominant, but he does take pleasure in knowing that confident personality will absolutely buckle if he wants it to. He holds power over the powerful. “You needn’t work so hard, though. Your salary is good, but your progress is dangerously rapid. You might get in over your head if you push so much.”

“You told me to do my duties, so I’m doing them.” Levi rakes hateful eyes over his current plaything. “And this is better. I don’t feel stupid anymore. Now bumbling clients like this one are the real idiots.”

Erwin goes quiet. Levi is just using language to entice a degradee, but he’s speaking with a little too much sincerity. He’s adapted to this role faster than he should.

“Levi, I urge you to be careful. This position you’ve adopted shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

“It’s not.” The way Levi maintains steady eye contact as he speaks is a good signal of his accountability. Erwin hopes so, at the very least. “Anyways,” he barks at the client statue. “Your window of opportunity is going to pass. Either talk to the Master or take your sorry, pathetic self home.”

The client’s darting to Erwin immediately, shakily asking when he can schedule Levi. Sighing, Erwin guides the client to his office so a rational appointment can be scheduled in a clearer state of mind.

Nobody should become a Dominant this fast, Erwin thinks. Making a small sacrifice, Erwin offers two courtesans for the price of one. He’ll let this client play with Levi, but only if Russell is present as well. Levi’s bullying performance may be based on a grudge against lewd customers, and Erwin will not let that affect how he treats them.

Although, he feels rather paranoid when a giddy client stumbles out of the Lavender Room the following evening. Whatever Levi and Russell did to that man seems to have completely rewired his head, transforming him into a hysteric slave of pleasure. He’s fine—not the victim of unleashed, trauma-induced anger. Either Erwin was panicked over nothing, or Russell had to do a lot of leash-tugging to keep Levi in line.

Russell confirms the former. Levi did well, cited as “mocking the client while they used him.”

Erwin harrumphs at the thought. “That’s unbelievable.”

Russell shrugs. “‘The Master is better’, Levi had said. ‘I wish he were in me instead.’”

“Goodness.” Erwin knew Levi might start a fire with his new title, but he didn’t foresee the actual height of the flames. Levi’s a stark opposite to who he was when he started. Boastful about sex now, especially when it relates to the Master. A domineering bottom instead of a bashful one.

“Besides taunting them, he wasn’t aggressive. The client was quite pleased.”

“Good. Thank you for keeping an eye on him.”

Erwin dismisses Russell and spends time alone in his office, trying to preoccupy himself with work to take his mind off the shapeshifting courtesan. Nothing works, so he cleans up his desk and snuffs the lamp in his office before heading to the staircase, off to bid the gentlemen good night before going home.

Levi’s doing well and it’s wrong of the Master to keep distance between them just because of a few unusual words spoken after a fit of lust. Erwin tells himself to quit worrying—to ignore the love sentiments and to appreciate his hard-working courtesan who’s grown and improved. It seems only fair.

Chapter Text

Late the next morning, Erwin fixes the buckles on Chester’s harness while chatting with other men in the lounge. He’s socialising and building rapport like always, but primarily he’s waiting for Levi to make an appearance. He won’t hide from his star courtesan any longer.

“Master.” Russell’s come to give Chester a matching collar for his outfit. “You’re glancing at the staircase a little too frequently.”

“Am I that obvious?” Erwin pats Chester’s hip to dismiss him.

“A little. Levi does tend to dawdle if there’s no clients for him. I wouldn’t worry about his tardiness.”

There’s still somebody that wants him, Erwin wishes to say. He ought to come down for them.

To Erwin’s relief, he hears the low, even voice spill down the stairs.

“I don’t care, and neither do the clients.” Levi’s chatting with someone as he descends. “I don’t want to put anything on my face.”

“It wouldn’t be hard,” Jules tries to explain. “I have a paint that matches your skin tone! Just a little dab under the eyes and you’ll look fresh and bright!”

“Go advertise to someone else. I don’t care about how I look.” Levi stops the conversation when he trudges into the conversation pit, conducting his usual scan of the place. Seeing Erwin’s face startles him into giving a messy, “Oh—it’s you, Master. What’re you doing here?”

“Enjoying my House,” Erwin answers. “Am I not allowed to?”

“…Do what you want.”

“I will. Come sit with me.”

Levi nearly teleports with how fast he’s beside Erwin, obeying snappily and wholeheartedly. His face is still stern, even though his body is loud in its loyalty.

“Thank you,” Erwin rumbles, ecstatic to see Levi shiver from the praise. He drapes an arm behind his pet to completely cloak his small frame. “I heard your session went well yesterday. How did it feel?”

“The same as always.” Levi has crossed his legs and arms, even tinier inside the Master’s splayed position. “I’m not turned on by being aggressive, but if it works, it works. It’s just sex for wages.”

“Not the sort of sex you enjoy, certainly.”

“Obviously not. Nobody’s bested you, blondie.”

Erwin’s ego swells tremendously. “Thank you. Is that your way of asking for more?”

“Oh, are you going to give more?” Levi asks the taunting question with a twist of biting sarcasm. “I was wondering when you were going to finish your damn thinking.”

The rascal’s attitude is quite amusing. Erwin loves watching it rise, for he’ll be the one to tear it right back down. “I wouldn’t have constructed a House if my rationality was stronger than my urges. I can’t stay stuck in my own mind forever.”

That seems to strike something within the other. “Well, for what it’s worth,” Levi starts, his tone lowered a hair. “I’m sorry about all of that. The I love you shit.”

Erwin is still, not one slight reaction shown on his face. He can sense the weight of those words, and he knows it’s crippling for this irascible criminal to apologise.

“I didn’t mean to push you into anything,” Levi continues. “It was clearly past what you expected. I’m sorry—”

“Levi, there’s no need to apologise.” Erwin doesn’t want him to be sorry. Levi felt something, which should always be welcome in this inclusive House. Just because it varied slightly from the usual arsenal of emotions doesn’t mean it’s wrong. “It’s cowardly of me to neglect you and make you worry about what you said.”

“Fine. Just forget about it.”

“I mean it. I should do better than dodging—”

“Enough with the self-pity,” Levi grumbles. “You look stupid when you’re mopey like that.”

Erwin’s soothed by his reprimand. Nobody but Levi would tell him to relax in such a bold manner. “You really—”

Erwin stops as both men recognise the distant but grating sound of their least favourite client. Beast is speaking with a courtesan in the entrance hall, his unholy presence turning the air cold as he meanders closer to the lounge.

“Straddle my lap, Levi.” Erwin keeps a firm gaze on the nearing monster as he issues a command just as stern. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

Even as he complies, Levi casts hateful glances over his shoulder. “Why? What’re you going to do?”

Erwin doesn’t answer. A protective hand holds the small of Levi’s back, claiming the courtesan before the bearded client can snatch him up. Beast saunters into the lounge, sucking on a wickedly expensive cigar.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he says to those that notice him.

“If you’re trying to sound like the Master, you’re doing a terrible job,” Levi snaps from across the lounge, unafraid to mock his enemy. “His voice is way smoother.”

“Come now, Levi.” Erwin’s quick to follow up, hiding his hatred behind his charisma. “That’s no way to speak to a cherished client.”

Beast’s grin is a cocky one as he settles in a chair across from the duo, his smoky stench pervading the air. “Not to worry. I always appreciate Levi’s attitude.”

Levi scoffs. “Good, because I’m not sorry.”

“That’s enough.” Erwin pins Levi’s chin to his shoulder, a firm hand on the rear of his skull.

“Nn—hey—”

“Behave, Levi,” Erwin expertly whispers in his ear, triggering the goosebumps under his skin. He truly wishes Levi could continue berating the monster, but he can’t lose sight of his role as the Master.

Besides, if Beast really wants Levi’s attitude, then the Master intends to deprive him of it. The client will only receive what he wants if he pays handsomely.

“There’s no need to get so riled.” Erwin makes his voice soft and low, daring anyone to speak to Levi as sweetly as he can. “Just relax against me. I’ll do the talking.”

Levi, with only a view of the couch backrest, is left to wonder just what Erwin is trying to accomplish this time. Beast has made an appearance, and almost instantly Erwin swept up his pet to claim it as his.

Is this done out of possession? That can’t be right—a possessive Master wouldn’t allow his pet to keep working and servicing clients as he does. Only for Beast will he become this cagey.

Levi feels the shared hatred he and Erwin harbour towards this particular client. He’s a creep that tiptoes the line between consent and danger, play and evil. He’s only allowed to remain as a customer of the House because of his overflowing wallet, something that the Master is comfortable extorting.

Perhaps it is a form of protection on Erwin’s part, since Beast wants Levi with a different type of lust than other clients do. Beast wants Levi for Levi—for his tetchy personality and his fear of sexuality. Beast knows of Erwin’s hunger for the boy, and Beast thrives on testing Levi’s experience of the erotic world. He’s a cunning sadist, one that gets off on more than simply throwing a whip across a victim’s back.

He wants to fuck with these two by screwing up their heads, and Erwin won’t take that challenge lightly.

Levi can feel that dare emanate from the Master that clings to him. Try me, Erwin embodies. Levi is mine before he will ever be yours.

“You’ve got him dressed up well,” Beast comments. “Has he grown out of wearing dresses?”

“He’ll wear one if I want him to.” Erwin tugs on Levi’s collar, exposing enough of his neck. “Right now, I prefer the look of this attire on him.”

Levi shudders as warm breath tickles the sensitive skin on his neck. His grasp on Erwin’s shoulders strengthens, conveying how expertly the Master is teasing him.

“Can he not think for himself?”

Levi stiffens at the bold question.

“Or does he like having his autonomy stolen?”

“It’s given,” Levi bites, hissing the words from the crook of Erwin’s neck. “I only feel robbed when you screw me up, furball.”

“Levi,” Erwin warns, doing his damndest to keep his gleeful cackle hidden. Well done, he wants to praise, but instead he issues a calm, “Any more of that attitude, and I’ll have you sent upstairs for the day.”

“That sounds like a reward for the virgin boy.” Beast slouches, lazily twiddling his cigar. “It’d be more fitting to put him over your knee.”

The image pains Levi. Grunting, he tucks his head back into the cloak of Erwin’s aura.

Erwin holds him tighter. “Do you intend to schedule an appointment, Beast?”

Beast laughs, a full and proud chuckle filling his throat. “In time. Have you lost your patience?”

Erwin swallows down a scoff. “I have other duties to attend to besides chatting. If you want to do business, let’s proceed.”

“Someone else will book me first if you keep stalling,” Levi adds. “You’re rich, but that won’t give you any sort of priority.”

“Levi.” Erwin, to silence the boy, presses a kiss on his neck. “Please.”

Levi’s frame locks up, astounded by the sudden jolt of stimulation. “That—hey—” Lips graze his skin before teeth pinch it, wrecking his composure. Shuddering, he clings to his Master and clenches his jaw to withhold whines. “Master—nh—why’re you—”

Erwin hugs him closer, sprawling hands across his back and breathing on his shoulder. “If you can’t learn to treat a client well, you won’t receive any more of my attention.” He gnaws at a purple spot left previously, to which Levi scoffs to disguise a moan and rubs his pelvis up against Erwin’s. “We wouldn’t want you to lose that privilege, would we?”

The Master’s threat is hollow—he would never separate himself from his favourite. The warning is directed at Beast more so than Levi. See, Beast? He meets eyes with the wicked client. My presence is a reward for him, quite unlike yours.

Levi knows. Levi’s tangled up in pleasure and confusion, but he knows enough to understand Erwin’s strategic mind. He’s not being toyed with for his sake, but he doesn’t mind. An attack against the Beast is just as satisfying.

“No, Master.” Levi runs a cheekbone against Erwin’s temple. “We don’t.”

“Please!” Beast guffaws, tickled and unbothered. “I’m all for voyeurism, but only with Levi. You don’t quite get my blood flowing, Master Erwin.”

Levi’s scoff is solely rooted in anger this time. “This is the Magnolia House, and this shit is normal. Book an appointment and scram if you don’t want to watch—gh!” he grunts as his head is forced skyward, Erwin with a firm grip in his hair. “Nh—Master—Master!”

“You’re toeing the line, Levi.” Erwin explores his exposed collarbone, burying himself in the perfect, small body. “Last chance.”

Pawing at Erwin’s shoulders, Levi shoves more insults back down his throat and keeps his tongue still. Whether or not Erwin is genuine in his warning, he’ll obey.

“Do you intend to book Levi or not?” Erwin resumes negotiations.

Beast sighs, smoke billowing from his lips. “I’m not sure.”

Both Master and courtesan stiffen. “Not sure?” Erwin echoes, releasing Levi’s hair.

“Yes, I also can’t believe I’m sceptical.” Beast’s face turns dark, wrought with irritation. “But with those hideous marks covering him? I might wait until they’re gone.”

Scowling, Levi curses the heat in his cheeks that have stemmed from utter shame. They’re not hideous. They’re beautiful because they’re from Erwin. Anyone that can’t understand that is daft.

“To be frank with you, Master,” Beast resumes. “I find it pretty unprofessional to eat up one of your employees like you two are libidinous newlyweds. What merchant ruins his own merchandise?”

“Be reasonable. He’s more than a product.” Erwin pauses. “They all are. I don’t treat my gentlemen as objects.”

The few moments of silence in Erwin’s dialogue speaks plenty for Beast; one blond is already unravelling the mind of the other.

“The label doesn’t matter. You’re still selling him—alas, you can’t now. Did you intentionally screw him up so nobody will want him? So you can keep his tight little body to yourself?”

“He’s not—”

“People still want me,” Levi growls. “Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

“Jealous? Me?” Beast gestures a broad hand at Erwin’s gritted expression. “Look at who’s clinging to you right now, Levi. Holding you so tightly to stop the Beast from stealing you. Who has you covered in his teeth marks, ruining your quality as a courtesan—sabotaging your profession? Tell me! Who’s the real jealous one here?”

Levi wants to erupt as Erwin’s equally enraged arms grip him harder. “You—”

“Oh, I got ahead of myself.” Beast calmly apologises before either half of the pair can explode. “It’s rather ill-mannered to insult the Master like that, isn’t it?”

Erwin stumbles to keep up with Beast’s snaking dialogue. “It is, Beast. What’s your intention, if not to book my employee?”

“No need to fret. I’ll book him. Consider it an apology for my accusation.” The words are fake, the apology is hollow. Erwin is not allowing Beast to take another step forward unless every nuance of his behaviour is analysed.

“That can’t be all.” Erwin tests Beast’s intentions as the need for professionalism deteriorates every second. “Why the change of heart?”

“I figured out what I want to do with him.” Beast rises, casting a shadow on his opponents. “I’ll book him for an hour—oh, one of the other gentlemen too. I’ll book two courtesans.”

Keeping his inquiries to a minimum, Erwin remembers the steps of a proper business transaction. “Who?”

“I don’t care. One of the older, experienced men. A Dominant, if you want. Anyone’s fine.” Beast shrugs while lazily throwing his gaze around the lounge. “The Lavender Room this time. I’ll do tonight, around nine this evening.”

“Your requests?” Though, to Erwin’s chagrin, he finds himself slightly more impatient than usual.

“Haven’t written them,” Beast deadpans. “I’ll get them delivered to you sometime today, along with payment. I wasn’t certain on booking when I came in—when I saw Levi like that.”

“We can finish this without the disrespect.” Erwin is still in power. He is still the Master, Levi is still his responsibility, and Beast is merely a niggling client. “If your requests and payment aren’t delivered within an hour, I will not reserve your time with him.”

“Strict as always.” With his lips flushing out smoke, Beast steps closer to his preferred courtesan. “That’s no matter. I’ll see you soon, Levi.”

Levi jerks his head away from the disgusting hand that tousles his hair, and he keeps it hidden against Erwin until Beast has definitely left the lounge.

“I hate him,” Levi mutters.

Erwin does too. “I will cancel the booking if you’d like.”

“No.” Levi shifts on Erwin’s lap, finding a comfortable stance in his ideal seat. “You’ll just prove him right if you do. People will actually think you’re trying to stop clients from having me.”

The notion reads as more of a fantasy in Erwin’s head. A rather pleasant dream. To have Levi for himself: no more clients, no more appointments, no more instances where his vulnerability is taken ruthlessly and torn up by horny pigs.

“Would that be so bad?” Erwin wonders, his face buried in Levi’s shoulder.

Levi doesn’t immediately react with sympathy. There’s none to be extended to a sentiment so ironic. “You’re impossible, Master.”

“I’m sorry?”

“One second you’re fending off my feelings, the next you’re just as whiny as I was.” Levi gaps his shoulder from Erwin’s head, forcing the Master to lift his chin. “You’re not thinking straight at all. I’d be damn useless to you and the House if I stopped working.”

One desire flares in Erwin’s mind, and it is the impulse to refute such a lie. “Useless? You’re not—”

“It’s all lust, isn’t it? If I don’t get blood flowing in anyone, I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re not useless,” Erwin finishes. “Not to me.”

“Why?” Levi dares, watching how his opponent stumbles through his own thoughts. “Is there something more than lust?”

Erwin’s caught. He’ll prove Levi right if he confirms as much, or he’ll brand himself as no different than the grubby clients.

He’s not like them, though he’s not inclined to harbour Levi’s mysterious feelings either. He must be more than a rapacious client—he knows he is. Since he treats Levi like a king and yearns for his presence constantly, he knows he is more.

It broadens beyond lust. It is more than the flow of blood.

There is a right answer here.

Levi is right.

Erwin, due to some stubborn force in his heart, does not want him to be.

“You’re pitiful,” Levi comments. “Losing focus a second time? That’s just sad.”

“Levi,” Erwin scolds, more to himself than his target. “You’ll never encourage reflection if you slight me every time.”

“Don’t blame me for your confusion.” Levi’s a statue compared to Erwin’s mental writhing. “I would rather you say something to me instead of staring at nothing.”

Erwin can’t fathom putting a burden like that on his employee. This is his angel of sexuality—he doesn’t need to ruin it with tangled feelings. “I wouldn’t plague you with that. You have more important matters to focus on.”

“More important than my Master?”

“Well, in a sense.”

“Right. Right.” Levi rolls his eyes. “You’re clearly out of it. I’ll give you some time alone, since you’d rather keep your panic inside than tell me.”

“That isn’t—”

“Relax. I’ll go do my job and get blood flowing in our source of income. Figure yourself out while I’m busy.”

“Ah,” Erwin breathes as Levi slips off his lap. “I’m not that pitiful, am I?”

“You are.” Levi looks down on his Master with festering disappointment. “I can’t believe I know more than you, for once.”

When Levi steps away, Erwin drops his unusually tense shoulders and slumps back on the couch.

Curiously, a grin spreads across his lips. It’s been years since he’s been deprecated to such a degree, but the feeling is quite soothing. This aggression stems from concern, a sort of concern that has remained absent his entire life. Nobody looks after him like Levi does.

He laughs to himself. Merely a small chuckle, but a full and telling gesture of his strange gratitude. It’s pleasing to be bound in confusion because somebody else is guiding him through it for once.

He defended his sexuality by himself. His romanticism, though untapped, actually has a higher power determined to cultivate it. The situation is new to him, but welcome.

“Maybe I can degrade him the same way,” Levi muses as he watches his coworker light a candelabra. “Did he consent to that on his request list?”

“Not at all.” Russell cups a hand near the wick until the flame takes and spears the air. “All he wrote was: Handjobs, Levi receiving.”

Levi harrumphs. “At least he specified this time.”

“You seem on edge, Levi. Is this client troublesome?”

“Yeah. He’s a scheming bastard, to be honest. Don’t let your guard down around him.”

“I won’t.”

“Did he request anything from you?”

“Nothing.”

Levi doesn’t like the sound of that. There are always too few clues to draw any conclusions from. He can’t predict the animal’s actions.

“If he screws up, make sure to hold him still while I pummel him,” Levi plots.

Russell shakes his head dismissively. “That’s pushing it.”

The door opens, allowing in the client. Beast has lost most of his layers, sporting merely a button-up and slacks. It leaves him less dignified, more rugged. Away from his wealth and nothing more than another human being.

“Good evening, you two.” Beast frees his top button and undoes his cuffs, treating the room as his own home. “Are we all still in agreement to proceed?”

“Obviously.” Levi glares from the armchair he waits at. “You think I’d back out right now?”

“You might’ve. Your tolerance is quite low.”

Levi ignores the comment. He’s not intolerant. He’s only trying to defend himself from a monster. “If you screw up, you won’t get away with it for even a second. Russell and I will make sure you never want to come back.”

“I’ll grow insensitive to these threats if you keep spitting them out, Levi.”

Levi scoffs.

“Get up.” Beast shuts the door. “I’ll take that seat. Russell, you’re welcome to the other.”

The two courtesans obey, both sets of eyes cautiously on their customer. Russell is situated a safe foot away from the armchair Beast takes, the two posed like old mates in a parlour.

“My lap, Levi. Sit.”

With a face wrenched into anger, Levi perches his hips on Beast’s thighs. “You don’t have to copy Master—”

Beast pulls him in, glueing Levi’s back to his chest and pinning his skull to his shoulder, the one farthest from Russell. “Open your legs—don’t claw at me, Levi. Just open your legs.”

Levi nails his hands to the armrest to resist his urge to fight and splits his thighs, dropping his calves on either side of Beast’s. “Ease up,” he demands, his jaw stuck in Beast’s immovable hand.

“Calm down. This really won’t be such a bad session. You just need to calm down.” Beast snaps free the line of buttons on Levi’s slacks. “Russell’s here. You know I won’t and can’t do anything irresponsible.”

Levi yields to that, wishing he could glance Russell’s way to remind himself of his guardian. Beast must’ve booked the extra courtesan solely to reassure Levi.

“There you go. Sink into me.” Beast fishes out Levi’s cock from the folds of his drawers, thumbing the flaccid member. “See? Handjob. Levi receiving. You knew this would be happening, right?”

Levi takes in a nasal inhale and keeps his breath held. “Sure.”

Beast hums with pleasure as he feels the short length of what’s available, warming it up. “I’ll bring you to orgasm. Are you ready to handle that now?”

“Yeah.”

“Glad to hear it. Erwin—excuse me, Master Erwin gave you a wonderful first time, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Levi declares, happy to brag. “You couldn’t compare. I don’t regret throwing you off me.”

Beast laughs like a parent amusing their child’s subpar humour. “Good. You brought him to orgasm too, I assume?”

“Sure.” Levi shudders as the warmth of Beast’s palm envelopes his length, almost coating the entire shaft. “He…he filled me.”

“I bet he did. He must love fusing his soul with you.” Beast murmurs his words low and steadily, tickling the nerves in Levi’s ear. “Did he pump your cock like this, too?”

“He did—fuck—what’s with the fucking questions?”

“Am I not allowed to ask you questions?” Against Levi’s preference, Beast moves at a perfect, satisfying pace. “It’s harmless, I promise.”

Levi screws his eyes shut, blacking out from the situation. “It’s never harmless coming from you.”

“Your hatred pains me,” Beast laments in faux sorrow. “I heard from other courtesans that you’re the Master’s favourite. That’s quite the title for you.”

There’s a bulge forming, rubbing against Levi’s ass. Anytime he squirms, he grinds against it.

“What’s next, then? Will you become the Master’s betrothed?”

Levi flinches at the thought, tense in Beast’s lap. “That…that is—”

“Wouldn’t you like that? You must feel something for the man that protects you.”

Russell’s presence worsens the air for Levi. He wants only Erwin to be privy to his feelings. The other courtesans accept his title of the favourite, but pushing that to the next level may be grounds for hatred. They don’t yearn for the Master like Levi does, but they still appreciate his attention—attention that will wither if Levi takes his heart and mind away.

“Not your fucking business.” Levi stifles a gasp as Beast’s pressure grows firmer. “Why—why do you care?”

“Hmm.” Beast watches his own work, raking eyes over the frame that quakes and flinches in his grasp. “I’d tell you, but I think you’d be quite uncomfortable to hear how much your mental destruction would turn me on.”

Levi scoffs. “You already make me uncomfortable. I hate booking with you.”

“Then I’ll simply book a different courtesan from now on. Chester, perhaps. Or Jules. One of the other courtesans with that boyish naivety you have. The innocent minds are my favourite to break.”

“N-not innocent,” Levi gnarls half-heartedly. “They’re not.”

“They’re not like you, though. You and I both know they’ll succumb to me quicker than you will. So, if you’d rather I book them—”

“No.” Levi wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. “Don’t.”

“I won’t.” Beast eyes the quiet but cautious Russell. “Am I pushing it, Russell?”

“I’ll let Levi determine that,” the Dominant answers. “Speak up, Levi, if you’re upset.”

“I’m fine,” Levi insists.

Beast hoists up his toy and picks up his tempo. “Listen to me, Levi.”

“What?”

“Keep your eyes closed. Daydream. Think of whatever you’d like. I won’t say a word. We’ll stay like this until you orgasm. Got that?”

“S-sure. Fine.”

Beast doesn’t answer. He softens his grip, cradling Levi while stroking his cock. His breathing is even, too calm for his usual attitude. Levi can’t decide if he should feel comforted or afraid.

He chooses neither. Splayed on Beast’s lap, he pictures the image of Erwin and imagines his warmth instead of Beast’s heat. That large hand on his cock is Erwin’s. The voice in his head belongs to the Master. It helps to speed up the process when he fills his head with pleasurable thoughts.

Minutes pass. Levi twitches as pressure builds in his stomach. He feels his cock throb in those firm fingers, excited to climb the peak. It’s motivating—the sooner he orgasms, the sooner he can be finished.

He exchanges moans for gasps as his shaft squelches in the hand that pumps it. Holding the armrests, he lets Erwin consume his mind as Beast pleasures him. The animal can try, but he won’t compare to the Master. The glorious Master, the harbinger of pleasure. Nothing, nothing will defeat that god.

Aflame with a lustful imagination, Levi locks up his muscles and jerks his pelvis against Beast’s hand, grunting as semen spurts out at last. He lets a muttered, “Gh,” escape, but otherwise he’s dead quiet.

“There we go. Darling little boy.” Beast watches the fluid dribble down the shaft, leaking onto his hand. “Thank you for being so obedient, Levi. You were perfect for me.”

“I don’t—don’t get it.” Levi winces at the sight of his drained cock. “This isn’t what you do.”

“You can’t know me that well. It’s only our third time together.” Beast hugs the shaft to keep semen from staining his slacks. “Russell, do you have a handkerchief?”

Russell offers one to his client, also amazed to see him behave so well.

Levi stays still as he’s gently cleaned up, even watching his cock be returned to its nest in his drawers. He hates how oddly placid his client is.

“You’re dismissed, Levi.” Beast urges the boy off his lap. “You’re welcome to leave. Enjoy your evening.”

“What?” Levi stumbles forward and whips around, scrutinising either man. “What’s going on? You’re not done already.”

Beast chuckles. “I can play with you more, if you’d like.”

“No—fuck that. But you’re…you’re plotting something. You’re trying to screw with me.”

“Think whatever you’d like.” Beast motions to the door. “Now leave us be.”

“Us?” Levi switches to Russell. “You’re keeping Russell? You can’t do that.”

“Well, technically he can,” Russell points out with dismay. “But remember, Beast, you wrote no requests for me, so we’re not permitted to play.”

“I know,” Beast acknowledges. “No need to worry. Levi, I said you’re dismissed.”

Levi inches away, warily eyeing his predator. “Russell, don’t let him do anything to you.”

“I won’t. I can handle an unruly client.”

“Beast, you better—fuck, just watch your fucking back. I won’t let you off easy if you fuck up my coworker.”

“Noted. Leave.”

Levi marches out, praying to every god he doesn’t believe in for Russell’s safety. Beast should be loyal to the request list, but Beast is also a demented lunatic. Nothing is certain when it comes to him.

“Levi.”

The courtesan can barely exit the room before he’s accosted by the waiting Master.

“Shit,” Levi sighs as his eyes scale his only tangible deity. “You don’t have to wait outside like that.”

“I’m inclined to when it comes to Beast. Was everything alright in there?”

“Yeah. Russell’s still in there though. I don’t know why.”

“Strange. Does he intend to play with him?”

“He can’t. He didn’t write any requests.”

“That much is true.” It doesn’t sit well with Erwin, either. “I’ll wait for him. Go wash up and help the others with dinner.”

“Sure.” Levi turns away. “Let me know if anything happens to Russell. I worry about him.”

“That’s kind of you. I’ll be sure to speak with you if there’s a concern.”

“Thanks.” Levi’s off, the relief of an easy session overshadowed by worry for his abandoned coworker. He doesn’t want anyone else to suffer under Beast’s manipulation—his housemates are strong, but they don’t deserve to navigate the torture Beast could put them through. Levi wishes that burden would rest only on him.

Chapter Text

“You need to grow up and talk to me.”

Levi can’t believe it. He knew he may have to be a nanny for his Master’s crooked heart, but he didn’t think that same supervision had to be extended to his very own housemate. To his discomfort, Russell has been added to the list of Levi’s emotional responsibility.

“Focus on your appointment.” Russell has kept his eyes fixed on the coil of snowy rope he unravels. “That’s far more pressing.”

“The appointment hasn’t started. And I can handle Beast. You can’t—couldn’t. What did he do to you?”

“I told you. Nothing.” Russell beckons. “Give me your wrists.”

Levi kisses his forearms together, offering fused fists to his coworker. “He seriously didn’t touch you?”

“No. We just talked. I informed the Master about it.”

“Inform me.”

Russell winds doubled rope around Levi’s limbs, fulfilling his duty as the House’s primary rigger. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Russell, you’re not sneaking out of this one. I have to know everything Beast did.” Levi glares at his interrogee through his brow. “I don’t want him to screw with anyone else in this House.”

Russell feels the sympathy in Levi’s determination, something rare to see from the stubborn novice. “You don’t deserve to panic,” he admits. “Nor would I want you to, for my sake.”

“Out with it.”

“He asked about you. All about you.”

“What did you tell him?” Levi cycles through whatever Russell may know. “Did you tell him about our conversation? About what I think of the Master?”

Russell fishes rope through itself, deep in concentration. “I never confirmed anything. He still seems to know something, though. If I let anything slip, it wasn’t intentional.”

Levi grows quiet. The Beast knows more than he should.

“I am sorry, Levi. I don’t want to compromise what you’re going through.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Levi flexes against the ropes that bind him. “Beast is a manipulative snake. He’s the one to blame.”

“Nevertheless.” A knot is tightened. “The last thing I’d want is to lose your trust.”

“Of the two of you, you really think I’m going to blame you?” Levi curls and stretches his fingers, feeling his tendons rub against each other in his wrists. “Thank you for telling me. I want to be ready for whatever he might do.”

“Besides the set-up, it doesn’t seem like much.” Russell guides Levi’s naked body off the mattress, leading him to one of the four posts of the canopied bed. “Though I don’t know where he got the idea to use the Ivory Room this time.”

“Could be a coincidence.” Levi’s spine melds with the post, assuming the position that was requested of him. “If he really wanted to replicate what we did, he should’ve started in the office.”

A tight bracelet of rope has been bound to the post a foot above Levi’s head, waiting to hold his frame. Russell hovers arms above his coworker as he reevaluates his work. “Where the Master found you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did—bring your wrists up, please—did he ever punish you for that?”

Levi opens up his torso as his wrists are pinned high above him. “No. He threatened to.”

“Hm.” Russell completes a new flowerbed of knots to connect slender wrists to thick timber. “You made him break protocol. That’s impressive.”

Even if he ceases supporting his weight, the ropes still hold Levi’s arms up. He’s quite restricted now. At least, quite so for him. “I guess I did. Sorry if I ruined anything.”

“You didn’t. His word is absolute, so he gets the final say in any matter.” Russell steps back, observing Levi test his bondage. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. If your hands go numb, alert Beast. Losing circulation isn’t lethal, though we’d like to try to avoid it when possible.”

He’s never heard someone worry about the logistics of tying someone up. “Good to know.”

“I’m going to blind you. Do you need anything else from me before I do?”

Levi sighs when eyeing the strip of silk Russell procures. “No,” he mumbles. “I’ll be fine.”

“Certain?”

“Yeah. Just put it on.”

Russell blankets Levi’s closed eyelids with the strip, winding it around his skull twice before working on a knot at the rear. He combs Levi’s locks out of the wrapping and smooths the fabric flat, making sure the black silk is free of dust and blemishes.

“Can you see?”

“Obviously not.”

“Is it secure?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s coming off.”

“Okay.” Russell detaches himself from his coworker, depriving the courtesan of his aura. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.” Levi, blind, drops his head. “Thanks for your help. I’ll give you a portion of my salary when I’m done.”

“There’s no need. It’s my responsibility to do this for the others.” Russell’s flattered nevertheless. “Stay as vigilant as you can. I’ll come in if you scream, alright?”

“Alright.”

“I’m leaving, and Beast will enter in a few minutes. Take some deep breaths while you have some time alone.”

“Sure.”

“Take care, Levi.”

Levi’s silent as Russell leaves the room, his ears acutely pricked to listen to every amplified sound. The door swings open, then clicks shut. He can hear the same from the antechamber’s door, too. If he really focuses, he hears muffled conversations from the Iris Lounge.

He breathes, as Russell said. He feels how his wrists sit in the ropes, how they hug him passively until he tries to worm out of them. They don’t constrict when he pulls, but they aren’t lax enough to slip out of either. Just secure enough. Harmless if he doesn’t resist.

His feet are flat on the ground and his weight leans against the bedpost. It’s not a hard position to hold, unless he had to be there for hours. But he doesn’t. Merely one hour, and this will be over.

He sees nothing in the underside of his eyelids so he briefly fills the void with any image that comes to mind. What the room looks like beyond the blindfold. Russell’s face. The lounge. Erwin’s office. Erwin.

It’s easy to disappear in a daydream for him. With a bowed head, he lets his mind go numb for several minutes while he waits. Erwin lives in his brain, asking how he feels about the upcoming session or grinning at the sight of the fading marks dotting his treasure. Perhaps they’ll have to be renewed soon.

An icy creak of door hinges sends a jolt up his spine and his even breathing halts.

He listens.

“Levi.” The word is spoken in Beast’s coarse voice.

Levi swallows thickly and remains silent. It’s harder to put up an aggressive front when he can’t even glare at his enemy.

“You look good like that.”

The door hinges squeak as the panel moves on its pivot. Levi remembers to breathe.

“How are you feeling?”

He breathes through his nose, his lips fused.

“Answer me. I need to make sure you haven’t gone mute.”

“I’m fine.”

Footsteps wander through the space. “How are the ropes?”

“Fine.” Levi shifts his thigh to screen his soft cock from the direction of Beast’s voice.

“Can you stand comfortably?”

“Yes. Just get on with whatever you have planned.”

“Impatient little child. We have an hour; there’s no hurry.”

Levi swallows down his frustration and lowers his head. He does need to be patient. Beast will have too much fun if he gets antsy.

His body shrivels as the footsteps float closer. With his head crammed against his biceps, he filters his inhales to avoid the stench lingering around Beast.

“I’d like you to perform a task for me. If you do, I’ll reward you.”

“I don’t want stupid treats from—”

“We’ll end the appointment right away, and I’ll tip you the same amount I’ve already paid for this appointment. All that money will go to you without the House taxing it first.”

“That—”

“Then, I won’t return to the House for a month. I promise you. You can have a long, blissful break from your least favourite client.”

Levi tsks at such a reward. The enemy, using deprivation of his presence as an incentive. It’s almost amusing.

“Hell, I’ll even apologise to the Master for what I’ve said about you and him. I mean it.”

“This—this is so stupid,” Levi quickly inserts. “What do you want me to do?”

“Anxious to know? I’m glad you want to obey so desperately.”

“I don’t. Just tell me what you want.”

“Certainly.” Beast steps close enough so his shadow swallows the courtesan, his frame gigantic over his prey. “Tell me you love me, Levi. That’s what I want.”

Levi’s blood runs cold. “You’re kidding.”

“No. Here: I’ll give you another incentive right now.”

“What—I don’t—”

“Would you like to know my name? It’s Zeke.”

Levi stiffens. “What?”

“Zeke. That’s my name. Zeke Jaeger.”

It doesn’t make any sense. With his brow furrowed under the silk, Levi tilts his head down. “Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I’d rather you call me that than my pseudonym. Try saying it.”

“That’s just ridiculous. Why—”

“Say it, Levi. One word. That’s all I’m asking.”

Levi huffs. He stalls by rolling his neck and testing the sensation in his fingers.

“Fine. Zeke.”

“Thank you.” Zeke lifts a hand to stroke Levi’s scalp. “Now tell me you love me.”

“No.” Hatred seeps in Levi’s veins, denying his mind the right to obey.

“Why not? Just a few words, and you’ll be free of me.”

A few precious words meant only for one man. Not for this one. Levi’s growing sick of giving his vulnerability to the monster that doesn’t deserve it. “I won’t.”

“That’s not a reason why.” One hand cups Levi’s cheek, the other nailed to his waist.

“Because I hate you.”

“No, you love me. Say as much.” Zeke’s voice is right before him, deep in his ears.

“I don’t. I—I love Erwin.” Levi forgoes his privacy in exchange for his resilience. Zeke should not and will not win this battle.

“He’s not here. I am. You love me.”

“I—”

Levi’s speech is smothered by Zeke’s lips, forced into a heavy kiss. He grunts as the taste of smoke stings his tongue, worsened by the bristles of Zeke’s coarse beard scratching his chin.

“You love me,” Zeke declares between connections. “Say it.”

Levi fights down a gag as a tongue slithers past his teeth and presses against his own. “Gh—mm!”

It seems endless, but after several eternities Zeke breaks away so Levi can breathe. “Go on, Levi. I’m waiting.”

“No—” A knee burrows between Levi’s thighs, grinding against his scrotum. “Nn—quit—”

“I will once you say what I want. That’s all it takes.”

Hands spider down his extended arms and scratch across his waist while lips press on his cheek and neck. He shivers, twitching at every unexpected touch. “I don’t love you. I don’t.”

“You do.” Zeke wraps a hand around Levi’s drooped cock and squeezes until the courtesan dribbles out a whine. “You absolutely love me. You have since we first met.”

“Are you stupid?” Levi whispers out, monitoring his voice lest it crack. “Never.”

“You love anyone that pleasures and pays you. You must certainly love me.”

“N-no!”

“The longer you deny, the longer we’ll be here. I’ll make sure to thoroughly use up the full hour.”

Levi groans in rage as he’s forced into another kiss, his feet stamping and twisting on the floor. The ropes dig into his wrists, likely to leave deep marks once they’re removed.

He coughs when Zeke retracts, wiping a mixture of saliva on his bicep. “Stop it, furball.”

“Zeke, remember. My name is Zeke.”

“I don’t care—ah!” Levi’s feet leave the ground when Zeke’s knee rides up, bullying into his crotch. “That’s—fuck, that hurts.”

“Not for me. I like how your ass cheeks rub against my leg.”

“Get off,” Levi complains as his sweat-glazed back rubs up the bedpost. He stretches for the floor and kicks a heel into the bed, writhing to slip off his perch.

“Say the words, and I will.”

“No. I’ll just end the damn scene first.”

“You could,” Zeke agrees. “But I’ll come back tomorrow so we can try again. Same as today.”

Levi’s heaving frame is held up by trembling arms, his hips clenched around Zeke’s thigh. He fails to hoist himself up any better and scoffs in humiliated loss. “No. You won’t be allowed—the Master won’t let you—”

“Won’t let me book you? Then he’ll lose my patronage. He can’t deny you the right to speak during a scene—that’s a privilege so basic it’s not even necessary to write it down as a request. If he even considered gagging you, I’ll just remove it and resume as we’re doing now. We’ll repeat this for as long as it takes: appointments where you bitch for a few minutes, cancel, then come out of the room unpaid and miserable. Is that really your version of defeating me?”

“You—ngh—fucking asshole.” If there’s another solution, Levi’s too fraught to think of it. He rams feet against Zeke’s leg and squirms, fighting instead of submitting.

“If you want me gone, tell me how much you love me.”

“I—I don’t—”

“It doesn’t matter if you do or not.” Zeke holds Levi’s head still and positions his ear close to Levi’s lips. “Just say you do. Do what it takes to please the client, even if it doesn’t interest you.”

It’s a fair point: these are merely a few words that have no meaning behind them. So long as Levi doesn’t mean them sincerely, it shouldn’t matter. It’s just syllables. Sounds.

A few sounds from his lips will pay him tremendously, banish the monster, and even give his Master a small treat. Just a few, meaningless sounds.

“Fuck you,” Levi mutters.

“Try again.”

Scoffing, Levi prays for forgiveness—from nonexistent gods and his tangible though absent messiah—before opening his mouth.

“I…love you, Zeke.”

Levi feels Zeke’s body lock up, overrun with delight, before the client promptly steps back from his body.

“Again.”

“No,” Levi spits. “I did what you said—”

“Again.” Zeke’s voice drifts away ever so slightly. “You did it once. Do it again.”

Tugging on the ropes, Levi wishes they’d just come loose already. “Let me go—”

“Again.”

“Fucking—fine. I love you.”

Under his words, the sound of a peculiar squeak slips past his ears. It’s so slight, he’s not sure if he imagined it. Perhaps his throat whistled unintentionally.

“Again.”

“What’s wrong with you?!”

“I promise you, your freedom is coming soon. Just indulge me and say it again.”

“You’re sick. I love you.”

Zeke can’t help but spill a chuckle riddled with sadistic glee. “Beautiful, Levi. Again.”

“I love you!” Levi shouts as a curse, yanking on the ropes and actually tugging the entire bed an inch.

“Good!” Zeke whoops. “Lovely! Only once or twice more.”

Levi’s escape is on the horizon. Hoping Zeke’s word is true, he sniffs in a shaky inhale. “I love you!”

“That’s right. And…?”

“I—I love—”

“Beast!”

Wood slams against wood. Levi gasps. Fabric is snatched so ferociously, a few threads rip.

“Have you no respect, Beast?!” Erwin’s voice bellows.

Levi emits a hopeful whine. “Erwin?”

“Master Erwin, there’s no need—”

“You can’t seem to go one session without abusing my courtesan,” Erwin continues. “Why do you insist on breaking the rules?”

“Pardon me?” Zeke’s tone is collected, almost amused. “Which rules were broken?”

“Erwin,” Levi interjects, squirming where he stands. “Please—”

“You’ve pushed him to his limit. Again. You’ve left him in a state of distress—”

“He would’ve ended the scene if that were the case,” Zeke interrupts. “He’s had freedom to speak up this entire time. You, Master, are the one manhandling me without warrant.”

Feet stumble back as the Master aggressively frees his criminal.

“Erwin,” Levi tries again. “Please come here. I need—”

“It’s not my fault you’re shy about your little boy professing love. You’re sore about a few words and your solution is to attack me?” Zeke emits a gut-wrenching chuckle. “You have no proper reason to be angry with me. I’m not at fault for your sensitivity.”

“That’s enough,” Erwin booms. “Get out of my House. You’re never welcome back here.”

That sends both listeners into a brief moment of stunned silence.

“Excuse me?” Zeke expels a heavy scoff, trading his blitheness for indignance. “You intend to toss away my patronage like that?”

“Yes. Out.”

“On what basis?” Zeke challenges. “Tell me, Erwin! What rule did I break?”

“Erwin,” Levi whimpers.

“You can’t be daft enough to think you’re permitted to crack the door open.”

“Well, I should’ve been told that earlier, then. I was never made aware—”

“And expose what you’re doing to my entire House? Why would you think that’s appropriate?”

Levi’s eyes widen underneath the silk. “You’re kidding—”

“You run a whorehouse,” Zeke gnarls. “Do you really expect all your clients to be astute sycophants? Anyone sensible would be specific when protecting his men—”

“I don’t give a damn. My word is absolute—and I demand you leave.”

“You are unbelievable. What foolish seller would deny his best customer? You need to take one single second to reconsider what exactly you’re throwing away—”

“Titus!” Erwin roars to the other room. “Come here! I need a client thrown out!”

“Erwin!” Zeke stomps closer. “Have you gone mad?!”

“Do not touch me.” Erwin, finally, starts coming closer to Levi. “Titus, get him out of here.”

“Erwin, think. You need my patronage—my money—” Zeke grunts as he’s snatched by a significantly greater man. “Alright. I’ll follow your damn rules!”

“Go.” Erwin is unmoving.

“Erwin!” Zeke’s voice is dragged away, to Levi’s relief. “Another chance, Erwin. One more chance!”

The last Levi hears is a pained, “Please!” before the doors are pulled shut, Zeke segregated from his victims. There’s activity on the other side, but it’s too muffled for Levi’s exhausted mind to interpret.

“Erwin,” he begs instead. “Please. Come here.”

“Levi.” Erwin darts close and pulls Levi’s body into his own, straining Levi’s pinned arms. “I can’t believe him. Where does he find the gall?”

The anger in his voice is disconcerting; Levi does not want to be the recipient of it. Wincing, he tries to shift back and relax his position. Erwin’s grip won’t let him. “Erwin—the ropes.”

“Right.” In an instant, a knot is undone and Levi’s bound wrists are freed from the bedpost. Erwin sweeps him up, clutching the small, naked body close to his chest as he returns to the door.

“Hey,” Levi whispers, clawing at his blindfold. “Slow down—where are we going?”

Erwin shoulders the door to the antechamber open, then, once waiting a few moments and listening, pushes into the main area. He’s silent and focused, Levi deprived of choice in his hold.

“Erwin.” Levi finally works the silk off his eyes, blinking at the rapidly moving world around him. He sees the lounge as Erwin bypasses it, a few startled courtesans inside.

“Master,” Jules calls, their voice tinged with worry. “What happened—”

“You have clients to entertain.” Erwin doesn’t stop his pace. “Stay with them. Don’t interrupt me.”

“Erwin,” Levi scolds as his captor barges into the office. “The hell was that?”

Levi’s set down—almost dropped—on a couch before Erwin circles his desk and sits, searching for a fresh sheet of paper. “Nothing. I just need to focus right now.”

Levi drops the silk and twists his limbs in their bondage. He can’t wriggle out. “You don’t talk to your courtesans that way.”

Erwin can’t tell if that’s an observation or a reprimand. He doesn’t analyse it; his mind is elsewhere.

“These damn ropes,” Levi tsks, scanning the array of knots and loops. “Can you undo these, Erwin?”

Erwin’s already in another world, mentally combining words and sentences that he translates onto the page with stiff, snappish strokes. “I need your help, Levi.”

His befuddled courtesan has already resorted to teething every possible knot. “What?” he asks while gnawing into the rope.

“I know the Jaegers have two sons, but that’s the limit of my knowledge.” Erwin pauses to reread the paragraph he’s willed into existence. “Zeke and Eren. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to determine which one we’ve received the patronage of.”

“Hmph.”

“If you’ve learned anything during your sessions with Beast, I need you to tell me. I have to ensure only the correct one is incriminated.”

“Not a problem.” Levi’s pleased to see his targeted knot slacken just a hair. “He told me his name just now.”

“He did?” Erwin’s astounded, albeit impressed. “Well done. Which brother is Beast?”

After another round of unsuccessfully worming in the ropes, Levi pauses to think. “Hold on. What do you mean by incriminate? Are you turning him in to the constabulary?”

“No, they’d never take tips from me. I only intend to write to Dr. Jaeger. Tell me his first name.”

“His dad?”

“Yes. His name, Levi. Tell me.”

The cuffs on Levi’s wrists are nagging at him. Stuck between them and Erwin’s insistence, Levi’s vexation has reached a new peak. “That’s dramatic. You’ve already banned him.”

“He deserves more punishment than that. My House didn’t build a reputation by letting wrongdoers off easy.”

“So…what? You’re going to report his ‘crime’ to his dad and let his family deal with what he did?”

“Precisely.”

Levi’s appalled. This seems to surpass any notion of logic Erwin usually adheres to. “What exactly are you going to tell Dr. Jaeger?”

“Everything that happened. Beast frequented the Magnolia House, paid exuberant amounts of money to meet with my courtesan, and treated him poorly every time. I won’t withhold the truth.”

“But—” Erwin’s right: Zeke did fuck with him in every appointment, yet that’s not what irks Levi.

Levi discovered only one privilege he held upon entering the Magnolia House, and that was a blissful nescience of the injustice towards sodomites. One that had no time to explore sexuality could have never been condemned for it. Erwin’s past, paired with the anxiety lingering in courtesans—Jules especially—signalled a shadow of persecution over the House that Levi never noticed.

Indeed, the House is special because it welcomes those that society has deemed sinners. Even before joining the House, Levi understood that the glory of the Master’s care came with the price of labelling oneself a sodomite. The House is safe and kind, but only for those that have nowhere else to go.

The rest of the world is safe for absolutely anybody else. Outside these walls, the House’s courtesans and clients are not welcome unless they bury themselves in disguise. Exposure will spur persecution. It evokes a hatred in outsiders that overpowers even mighty forces like familial love.

Erwin’s parents cast him out. Every sodomite’s parents will likely do the same.

“You’re going to mention the Magnolia House,” Levi confirms.

“Yes. I’m nearly done, if you would give me his name.”

“The Magnolia House,” Levi stresses. “The House known for serving sodomites.”

“Of course. It’s a surefire way to condemn him—”

“Yeah, to fucking destroy him!” Thankfully, the ropes loosen enough and slip off Levi’s hands. “Look, I hate the guy, but even I wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what?” A bolt of ire flashes in Erwin. “Punish an offender that harasses my courtesan?”

“I mean out him like that. To his dad. Seriously, Erwin, is this some screwed-up way of following in your parents’ footsteps?”

Erwin’s frame freezes as his eyes burst wide. “I’m sorry?” he rasps, hoping he misheard his angel.

“Because you’re doing the exact same thing they are.” Levi tosses the limp, frayed coil onto the low table and gets to his feet, naked but indifferent.

“I am in no way—”

“You’re punishing a sodomite for simply liking men. That goes against everything you’ve built in this House.”

“You misunderstand, Levi,” Erwin breathes, his voice seeping with muted wrath. “I’m inflicting justice on an abuser—a rapist.”

“Fine, then write that. That is a crime. Tell Dr. Jaeger—anonymously—that his son harassed a random courtesan. Accuse him of being a rapist if you really want to, but don’t use his damn sexuality against him.” Levi takes one, solid moment to watch his words settle into Erwin. “I would think you, of all people, would know that he’s oppressed enough for that.”

Erwin can’t bring himself to speak, much less move. He stares at the words he’s scripted, avoiding Levi’s glare. He knows what feeling plagues him right now, and he makes a crippling effort to dodge labelling it.

Guilt. Crushing penitence, the sort that hasn’t caged his heart in years. A new moral compass has presented itself, telling him his stubborn, merciless method is wrong. Cruel. Abusive.

No better than his damn parents.

He swallows down a lump in his throat.

“Erwin.” Levi’s by his side now. “Put the quill away.”

Lacking autonomy, Erwin mechanically sets the quill in its holder.

“I won’t tell you his name,” Levi declares. “So don’t go prodding for it. Just leave him banned and let it be. Okay?”

Erwin can only glance at Levi’s hand in the corner of his vision. “Okay.”

“Hey.” Levi strokes his Master’s shoulder, concerned to see the god so forlorn. “This…is bad, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

Sighing, Levi climbs over the armrest and settles in Erwin’s lap, straddling his waist and mindlessly smoothing out his lapel. “This must not be the first time you’ve done this, right?”

Erwin’s head doesn’t lift. “That’s right.”

“I figured.” Levi gazes at the painted magnolia, wallowing in the guilt his partner exudes. “How many, Erwin? How many have you written about?”

Erwin’s quiet for a long, long time. No matter his shrewdness, he can’t calculate any accurate number. “I don’t know anymore.”

Levi swallows. Whatever the number, it’s too great for even Erwin to recall. Or, perhaps it’s so suppressed in his mind he can’t bring back the erased memory. The Master has cast out so many of his own kind, wielding the persecution he had once been a victim of. It was effective, yet immoral. The House, Levi realises, did not even protect its own population.

A large hand lightly grasps his thin wrist, turning it to see the deep, red marks of the ropes. “I’m sorry,” Erwin murmurs, rubbing a thumb over the indents.

“Ignore that.” Levi’s words are lazy, too, quite dismissive of his marks. He doesn’t care about them right now. “I just put a lot of weight on the ropes during the scene.”

“I am sorry,” Erwin says again, and Levi understands it's not an apology for the marks. “Truly.”

“Quiet.” Levi pulls his Master close, putting Erwin’s head in his shoulder and pinning an arm across his back. “Stop panicking for a second.”

Erwin welcomes it. He weakly reciprocates, lacing arms around Levi’s waist and hiding his buried face. He follows the order of his angel.

“I’m—”

“Apologise one more time, and I’ll throttle you. Just be quiet.”

Erwin wouldn’t dare disobey. He halts his words and breathes, controlling each inhale and exhale so Levi won’t make out any tremor in his lungs.

Levi, feeling his Master’s hurried heartbeat, is well aware of Erwin’s distress and subsequent failure to hide it. He thinks to assure the Master that he won’t tell a soul if tears are shed, but he decides against it. He also wouldn’t cry if he were in the Master’s position.

Levi counts the number of outstretched hands in the magnolia painting while rubbing a hand along Erwin’s spine, trying to ignore the numbness in his calves. They’ve been sitting for quite some time, Erwin motionless and Levi wholly patient above all else. He’ll remain a statue until his Master is ready.

Erwin doesn’t want to leave. He can’t recall the last time he’s been held like this. He’s never been held like this.

It hurts. It’s shameful to hide in the embrace of his subordinate. It’s selfish to keep sitting here, feeling the hand on his back, doing nothing to promise his employee that he doesn’t need consolation. It’s pathetic to do nothing but give in.

Erwin is wrong for what he’s indulging in currently. His sins have been exposed, and in response he receives care from someone meant to be under his command. There is no punishment awaiting him, no devil come to drag him into the pits of hell. He’s only being held like a lost child.

His heart hurts, but he doesn’t move. Levi shouldn’t hold him so firmly, and stroke his back, and patiently wait for as long as he needs. He hopes Levi will forgive him for his selfishness.

That will be a problem for the future. Right now, Erwin shuts his mind off and basks in this unprecedented, unwarranted comfort.

Chapter Text

To warm his hands, Levi presses them against the lid of the active fish kettle. He listens to the simmer of water from within while calculating if a fourth whole haddock will be necessary to feed the gentlemen.

Most likely. Three fish isn’t enough for twelve mouths.

“Titus.” He rises and calls for his co-chef, who’s occupied with replacing a dim oil lamp. “We have more fish, don’t we? Can I cook a fourth?”

“There’s stew, too,” his housemate answers. “We ought to ration the meat for now. I think the Master was a little extravagant with his last batch of foodstuffs. We won’t get that same luxury again.”

“Probably reeling from Beast’s payments,” Levi muses. He vows to make up for the lost patronage. “Still, I don’t want some boys getting meat and the rest stuck with the same piss stew we’ve been eating for days.”

“The stew is fine.”

“The stew has too many onions and is starting to stink. Let me make another fish.”

Titus shuts him down. “Three fish and stew is enough. We’ll be out of food before the week’s out if we get that spoiled.”

Sighing, Levi squats before the kettle and lifts the lid, allowing the steam to kiss his face. “Fine. Next time we go to the market, I’m buying steak.”

“Enough for the entire House? You’d become a god among us if you can afford that.”

“Is that the next rank after Master’s favourite?”

Titus permits himself to laugh once. “And how is he, do you know? He hasn’t left his office yet.”

A shrug is Levi’s first answer. “Who knows. I’m impressed I could stay as long as I did.”

Titus fits the lamp in its wall mount and switches the flame on. “He ought to come out soon. The others are on edge.”

“I know,” Levi bemoans. “They have every right to be.”

“Hey!” Jules calls, zooming into the kitchen. “Is supper done?”

“Almost.” Levi grasps the kettle’s handles. “Get dishes and silverware, and we’ll be done by then.”

Agreeing, Jules scoops up bundles of silverware and spreads them across the countertop, dividing them into complete sets.

Passing by them, Levi checks their work. “Okay,” he sighs, setting down the kettle. “I get counting isn’t your forte, but it can’t be that hard. Try putting a name to each set of silverware, if that helps.”

“Yeah, I did! I got the number right.” Jules finishes running through their line-up, entirely confident that an extra set is intentional. “Chester, Earl, Levi, me, and…Master.”

“Master,” Levi repeats. “Why Master?”

“He’s eating with us.” Jules repeats their role call with the stack of bowls.

Levi stiffens. “When did you learn this?”

“Just now! Russell told me to let you guys know.”

“And you chose to casually drop it in conversation—”

“Levi,” Titus interrupts. “Take the stew out with Jules and serve the boys. See if the Master’s alright. I’ll finish prepping the fish.”

Irritated, but simultaneously desperate to see his hermit, Levi switches to the bubbling pot and frees it from the stove. “C’mon, idiot. Let’s feed the kids.”

In the dining area, Levi’s astonished to actually see Erwin amongst his disciples, asking for a place to sit between them. Proudly, Levi slams the pot on the Master’s table and takes the closest available seat.

“Welcome back to reality,” Levi greets dully. “Did you get bored of wallowing in guilt?”

“I’m glad I can count on you for bluntness.” Erwin offers a weak, grateful grin. “Sit with me for supper. What’s being served?”

“Haddock. Plus that boring sludge. Enticing, isn’t it?”

“Thank you for helping to prepare it. Russell,” he calls to the passing courtesan. “Are all the gentlemen here?”

“Yes. Titus is still in the kitchen, though.”

“That’s alright.” Erwin touches Levi’s shoulder, as if to inject himself with an ounce of strength, before rising to his feet. “Gentlemen, please.”

The room’s silent in a snap. His power to command has never once wavered.

“Thank you. And thank you, furthermore, for allowing me a place alongside you in supper.”

“It’s your House,” Levi mutters.

“I would like to apologise for my actions earlier. I know a good handful of you saw me—and heard me—lose my temper. It was unbecoming, and I hope it’s not representative of my character.”

“Stop,” a courtesan whines. “It’s so sad to see you all sorry like that.”

“Nevertheless, it’s necessary.”

Russell’s delicate when setting down spoons. “It’s no bother to me. Is Levi alright?”

“Me?” The accused lifts his head from his fist. “I’m absolutely fine. Our Master’s the one salting supper with his tears. Comfort him.”

“Even with Beast?” Russell wonders.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Beast was nothing but an idiot. Master did the right thing by throwing him out.”

“Super cool, by the way,” Jules compliments as they prance alongside Titus, sniffing at the cooked fish. “The way you carried him outta here. All big and manly—”

“Just following orders.” Titus sets two platters of whole fish corpses by the pot. “Fetch the third from the kitchen. Take care not to drop it.”

“C’mon,” Levi urges his Master. “Eat the commoner fish. It’ll humble you.”

Obediently, Erwin settles beside Levi and accepts the plate handed to him.

Conversation at his table shifts far away from his culpability, to everyone’s ease. Stories of ridiculous clients are shared and laughed at, and even Erwin offers insider tales of clients he’s had to reject and why.

Levi relishes the earl grey Titus gives him, sipping and listening to his boss and coworkers. The air is warm right now, free of stress and imbued with familial delight. There are no worries pervading the room.

When stomachs are full and plates are cleared, Levi permits himself some laziness and stays at the table while others clean up. He offers his teacup to Erwin, suggesting it might help relax that tense grin he’s been bearing all evening.

“Sleep would do you some good,” Levi suggests. “Let your mind reset. Then we go back to how things were tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I could sleep if I wanted to.” Erwin watches the activity around him. “This sort of tension isn’t cured by sleep.”

“Then what cures it?” Levi leans in, interested in the answer.

Erwin has none. He only sets down the teacup and shakes his head.

“Sex?” Levi guesses.

Ambivalence ripples in Erwin’s chuckle. “You can’t be serious.”

Levi shrugs. “I might be. Clients literally flock here for stress relief. You’re telling me letting off some steam won’t help?”

“Is this proposal for my benefit, or yours?”

Levi slides his gaze aside, avoidant. “Both. It has been a while.”

“A few days,” Erwin corrects.

“A while.”

Sighing, Erwin feels his mind drawn to the advertisement. Levi shouldn’t go to bed with the touch of the Beast lingering on his body. Erwin shouldn’t go home with this weight on his shoulders. They both deserve this from each other.

“It’s pitiful, how helpless I am around you.” Giving in, Erwin rises to his feet and extends a hand. “Let’s head downstairs.”

Levi cringes at the gentlemanly, open palm. “I’m not a princess,” he scorns. “I don’t need help up like a little girl—”

“Of course not.” Changing tactics, Erwin secures a hand on Levi’s forearm. “I apologise. You’re much tougher than that.”

“Hey—” Levi’s flung out of his seat and thrown over Erwin’s shoulder, his torso slamming against the broad back as his legs dangle freely. “Dammit—this isn’t what I meant—”

“Excuse us, gentlemen.” Erwin holds his prize securely as he weaves through the chairs, headed to the staircase.

“Put me down,” Levi gripes, catching glances of his housemates as Erwin passes them. “This is humiliating—”

“Master!” Jules, along with several other courtesans, happily watch the animals scamper away. “If we can’t hear him from up here, you’re doing a lousy job.”

“Pervert,” Levi snaps, struggling to hoist himself up.

“Noted,” Erwin responds before marching down the staircase.

The Master selects the Velvet Room, the only choice that hadn’t been used and dirtied that day. He flies past the antechamber and into the crimson space, indifferent to Levi’s thrashing on his shoulder.

Landing hard on the ground stutters Levi’s complaints. “Someone’s fucking excited,” he grumbles, scrambling to his feet.

“Was I too rough?” Erwin allows his body to be used as a crutch for Levi to rise.

As he staggers to his feet, Levi ponders the concern in Erwin’s voice. He senses worry, but he also discerns a muted request for consent—a request to go harder. If it’s too much, Erwin will back down.

If not, he’ll be even more vicious.

Considering the situation, Levi mildly wants Erwin to let loose and become frenzied. It might relieve his stress.

So he snatches the shirt he clings to and pulls Erwin’s head close. “You call that rough?”

The challenge alone tents Erwin’s trousers, who’s taking wicked delight in listening to his victim’s taunts. “Would you like more?”

And Levi, to his own surprise, is sparked with an exciting type of fear in the face of his god. Prodding at the almighty sounds dangerous, but damn invigorating. “Try me. We have to make sure you haven’t gone soft—ngh—”

“Soft?” Erwin’s amazed at the sight of his entire hand blanketing Levi’s throat, leaving not an inch of pale skin visible as he effortlessly whips around and pins the neck to the door. “You think I’m soft because I listened to you once?”

Tiny in his partner’s shadow, Levi’s ecstatic to hear his heart pound and feel his heels leave the floor. If he tried—if he were desperate—he could worm out of this, but forgoing that effort and succumbing to the entrapment sets his body on fire. It feels good to be cornered like this—ensnared but safe. Grasping Erwin’s wrist, his first grunt is undoubtedly filled with excitement.

“You buckle at the chance to fuck me.” Levi jerks his chin up, feeling his airway constrict. He must goad his top further. “You’re such a little bitch for my body—”

“Please.” Erwin’s free hand snakes fingers into Levi’s throat, destroying the head in his grasp. “Watch your mouth before I punish you for it.”

“You woul-n’t,” Levi snaps around Erwin’s fingers. “You—hn—”

“No, keep going.” With fingertips gouging into the veins of Levi’s neck and more digits prodding at his soft palate, Erwin relishes in his writhing submissive. “Keep taunting me. I haven’t heard enough yet.”

Retching on the fingers, Levi ponders sinking teeth into them before his head grows too heavy and he decides against it. He can do nothing but groan, his tongue thrashing against its intruders.

“Finished?” Erwin relaxes, tracing soaked fingertips along Levi’s cheek.

The courtesan’s head cringes away in response. “Fuck no. Is that all you can do?”

“Glad you asked.” Erwin disperses fingers into the crop of hair, spinning Levi by his head and slamming his chest into the door. As Levi bitches about the whiplash, his Master tears down his trousers until they’re around his ankles and runs a hand along his naked backside. Groping the pale pelvis, Erwin grinds his bulge between his ass cheeks and compresses his body into Levi’s.

“Wet them.” Erwin vices the submissive’s head with his chest and forces fingers past his lips.

“Ngh—kh—”

“Be thorough. It’ll be all the lubricant you’re getting.”

With a startled grunt, Levi churns up whatever saliva he can muster and coats the fingers in thick film. He squirms as Erwin’s free hand digs into the fat of his thigh, his ass inadvertently rubbing up against his partner.

“Collect your breathing,” Erwin orders as his wet hand withdraws his ready, eager cock. “This won’t be easy unless you relax.”

“That—” Levi actually drops a shocked whimper when he feels Erwin’s tip slot between his cheeks. “You’re—you’re kidding. I need prep—”

“Need? No.” Erwin transfers saliva to his shaft and rubs the excess around Levi’s entrance. “But it does help against the pain of stretching your hole. You’re tough enough to handle that though, aren’t you?”

Levi can only shudder as the tip presses against his unprepared entrance. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Hm?” Erwin cloaks Levi’s frame, curling an arm under his pelvis to hoist his ass higher. “I miss your taunts. Where are they?”

Nailbeds burn white as Levi braces against the door, his whole body taut and nervous. He teeters on his toes with most his weight on Erwin’s forearm, lined up for entry. With eyes screwed shut, he bores his forehead into the door and swallows.

“Are you ready?” the Master checks.

Pressed hands turn into fists. “Yes.”

Proud of his determined soldier, Erwin guides his tip against the entrance and pushes until the ring gives way, widening just enough to fit the crown. It squeezes Erwin’s cock, desperate to force the intruder back out.

And, like music to Erwin’s ears, Levi is already unabashedly whining. He paws at the door and dances on his toes, fighting to distract himself from the stretching discomfort. Curses are whimpered out until he’s out of breath to complain.

“Breathe,” Erwin reminds, holding himself still until his partner is ready for more. He feels Levi’s diaphragm expand again and nods. “Good boy. Keep it up.”

“F-fuck—fuck,” Levi cries when he’s invaded another centimetre. “Goddammit.”

“Do I need to stop?”

Levi firmly shakes his head. “I can do it.”

“Lovely words to hear. Tell me if it’s too much for you.”

Erwin, against his word, rewets what’s still exposed of his cock before bullying in further. Levi’s hips squirm against him, his toes stabbing into the floor.

“Sh-shit,” Levi hisses. “Shit.” His fists slam against the door, sparking pain elsewhere as a diversion. After another centimetre, he punches the wood again, harder.

“You’ll split the skin of your knuckles.” Erwin takes a hand to both of Levi’s wrists and pins them high above his head. “You’re free to thrash. I’ll hold you.”

Levi almost immediately tests that when Erwin’s hips roll in just a little farther, tugging on his upraised arms and dropping his head between them, a grimace stuck on his face. His rim burns, soothed only by the cool of his and Erwin’s mixed saliva, and a hefty cock takes up a brutal amount of space inside him. He’s tense, praying his body will adjust soon.

“Nearly there. You’re doing so well for me, Levi.”

With that praise alone, Levi’s sure he could endure this a hundred more times. Anything to hear the Master adore him again like that.

“Nh—hah!” Fortunately, pleasure comes when the shaft rubs against that gem inside him. It tickles just right, injecting him with a dose of much-needed pleasure.

Hearing the delighted whine motivates Erwin to finish insertion. He gingerly bottoms out, melding his pelvis into Levi’s ass with a low exhale.

“There we are. It’s not so bad.”

“It hurts.”

“I know. We’ll keep taking it slow for now.” Erwin frees Levi’s wrists to stroke his back. “Loosen your shirt. Let’s get it off.”

Levi drops his hands to his collar, pulling the fabric over his head and allowing Erwin to unthread it from his arms. Tossing the garment aside, Erwin draws lines up Levi’s trenched spine and scratches back down his shoulder blade.

“There you go. Adjust to my size.” Erwin dips down to press a kiss against Levi’s nape, feeling frissons rise under his lips.

“I’m fine,” Levi musters out, relaxing his hips. “I don’t need to be coddled. You really are soft.”

Pride translates to arousal in Erwin’s body, his mind overrun with animalistic excitement. He has to prove the brat wrong. The brat wants to be proven wrong. There’s no other reason he’d taunt his bully like that.

“You’re quite strong to declare that in your position.” Readying himself, Erwin hugs Levi’s torso and nestles his head on his shoulder. “Shall I go harder, then?”

Levi swallows down his terror and seals his eyes shut, just as girded. “Do I need to give you fucking orders?”

Erwin only hums a pleased laugh before jerking his hips back, close to exit.

“Nh!” Levi whimpers, slamming a fist against his shut lips.

Pitiful child, Erwin thinks as he pricks his ears and exhales. He hopes the boy will forgive his cruelty.

“Fuck!” Levi wholly shouts—almost screams—as he’s rammed into, his insides exploding with agonising flame.

Grinning, Erwin nuzzles a cheekbone against Levi’s temple. “I’m sure Jules and the others heard that.”

“Shut—shut up.” Levi’s legs shake, his muscles aching above his outstretched toes.

“Sure, I will.” Trusting the bottom to support his upper half, Erwin clamps both hands on his hips. “You, I fear, won’t be able to.”

Levi nearly collapses when Erwin thrusts again, his body perched between the door and his weak toes. He chokes out a cry, then another near-scream when the motion repeats immediately. “Erwin—oh, fuck. Fuck—gh! Hah!”

He’s getting there—he’s adjusting. It will get easier, and until then, he’ll suffer for the Master’s sake. The pain feels glorious under that basis.

Erwin closes his eyes, losing himself in the splendour of Levi’s whines and the feeling of a tight body strangling his cock. He hooks fingertips into either edge of Levi’s pelvic bone and keeps his rhythm, his system exploding with every curse and scream of his submissive. He feels desperate feet stab into his shoes, searching for a better place to stand.

Levi’s groans are ragged and guttural, using the length of his throat and resembling the bray of an animal. He’s close to collapse, his assaulted legs about to buckle.

“Er-win!” he begs. “I can’t—can’t keep—”

“Yes, I see.” Rather, he feels the small thighs quivering against his. “You’re so small; it’s hard to get you at the same level as my cock.”

Levi gasps as he’s suddenly emptied, his entrance stripped of its shaft. “Notmyfuckingfault,” he breathes as his feet meet the floor. “You’re the enormous freak—”

By the hair, Erwin takes his griping boy to the bed and heaves his body onto the mattress. “I’m not upset. It’s adorable, how tiny you are beneath me.”

Levi can barely flip onto his back before Erwin takes his ankle and yanks his hips to the edge of the mattress. “Ngh—not adorable—”

“Yes. Adorable.” Erwin sheds his own shirt before harshly folding his partner in half, nailing down his knees on either side of his head and rediscovering his entrance.

As Erwin pushes into him, Levi tosses his head to the side and spills his groan into his thigh, hiding his expression. Heavy pleasure rolls through his body, his vessels gushing with energy and lust.

“Don’t hide your face from me.” Erwin holds his submissive down by the throat, clamping hands around his neck with a portioned amount of strength. “Don’t deprive me of your most beautiful feature.”

When Erwin starts fucking him slowly, Levi’s elated to feel his first moan catch in his airway. Blood pools in his head as his breaths are hoarsely forced through a thin throat, the feeling of which intensifies his pleasure. His perpetual glare shatters and his eyebrows tent, succumbing to the urge to express his delight. He claws fingers into Erwin’s arms, begging his hands to stay where they are.

Erwin takes a mental note of how perfect Levi’s strangled whines sound, and how much Levi seems to enjoy the feeling. He can’t stop pumping, addicted to the choked moans that encourage him to keep going. He needs more, and more.

“Levi,” Erwin groans as his head drops, his hair drooping with sweat. “Just listen to you.”

Levi’s hands are free to climb up to Erwin’s head, demanding the same feature he asked for only with fewer words. They cup his jaw firmly, coaxing his face back into view.

When Erwin acquiesces, he does so in exchange for Levi’s hands which he pins to the sheets above. The only hand on Levi’s throat is calculated with its force, allowing a rush of blood flow and oxygen back into its victim.

“Thank—” Levi whines. “Thank you—hah!”

His squinting eyes and breathy cries spur Erwin to speed up. The Master pounds, all his weight bearing down on the grateful submissive.

Levi’s body trembles uncontrollably, surging with too much ecstasy to handle. He holds Erwin’s hand, clinging to five fingers with ten, and digs heels into his waist. It’s overwhelming, near unbearable. He can barely contain himself.

“Erwin!” Pressure building without direct stimulation is so shocking to feel, he pleads for help. He can’t believe what he’s feeling.

To answer, Erwin chokes him and keeps his thrusting consistent, conscious of what the trembling thighs and burrowing heels are telling him.

“Oh—oh! Erwin! I-I’m—” Levi’s back snaps into an arch, possessed by euphoria. “I’m—ah—”

“Come, Levi.”

Like a switch flipped, Levi’s body obeys with semen spurting onto his convulsing abdomen. Every muscle constricts, crushing Erwin’s hand and clenching his waist while his eyes lose tension and roll back in his skull.

“Oh, good boy,” Erwin praises over Levi’s moans, scooping his body into his chest. “Able to come from just my cock? That’s incredible.”

Levi rocks under Erwin’s tempo, clawing fingernails into his back as he brings himself back to life. He feels Erwin grow hasty, erratic. It’s likely a matter of seconds.

Drenched in sweat and clinging to his treasure, Erwin thrusts until he’s inundated with pleasure, spilling his orgasm deep inside Levi. He crushes the small frame with his weight as he plunges his cock as deep as he can, making sure it’s wholly encased as it drains.

He brings his body to a halt and slumps, panting atop his squashed victim. He feels Levi scoff, but he’s quite lazy about rising.

“Do you think you’re made of feathers?” Levi puffs.

Erwin only rests a cheek against Levi’s shoulder and revels in the scent of his courtesan’s sweat and arousal.

“Brat.”

“You can still breathe,” Erwin assures sluggishly.

“Barely.” Levi lets his eyes wander the ceiling while his curved fingers relax and creep up to Erwin’s scalp.

“Let me hold you.”

He finds that ironic. “Who’s holding who here?”

“Then hold me.” Erwin has no issue editing his sentence.

Though the request warms Levi’s heart, he makes sure his tongue remains icy. “Softie.”

“We’ll see about that when you try standing up.”

Levi tsks.

When several minutes pass and Levi’s breathing becomes exceedingly difficult, Erwin finally finds the energy to rise. He peels his body off Levi, feeling dried semen crumble between either of their abdomens.

“Gross.” Levi doesn’t even want to look at the crud.

“Is it a habit to say that every time we have sex?” Erwin stands and guides Levi to sit up.

“It’s just gross.” Levi rubs a hand on his throbbing temple. “I need to get cleaned up.”

“Absolutely. Can you walk, or shall I carry you?”

Stubborn, Levi pushes himself off the bed and stumbles forward. “I’m capable,” he announces, quietly coasting a hand over his ass and taking limping steps towards the antechamber.

In the antechamber, Levi squats in a hip bath and scrubs a washcloth over his stomach while Erwin washes his hands and smooths his hair back into place.

“Who’re you dolling up for?” Levi frowns at Erwin’s reflection.

“I should look a bit civilised when in the streets.” Small blond hairs are a bane, refusing to sit where Erwin wants them. “Though it’s late, I’d hate to risk drawing attention to myself.”

“What’re you doing in the streets?”

Erwin pauses. “Going home.”

Disappointment gnaws at Levi’s heart, brought about powerfully and suddenly. He slouches back in the tub, fidgeting with the washcloth. “Do you have to?”

Erwin focuses on burying his hands in a towel.

“You stayed overnight last time.” Levi tosses the cloth aside and works himself out of the tub. “We can use the room again.”

“The Velvet Room will need to be cleaned early tomorrow,” Erwin points out. “It’s booked for an early appointment.”

“Then I’ll wake up early and clean it.” Levi wraps a bath towel around his waist. “Or we’ll sleep in a different room. Hell, even the courtesan’s quarters are fine. Just stay.”

With hands rooted in the countertop, Erwin shrugs his shoulders and sighs. “The spare clothes here should be for the courtesans, not me. I ought to get a fresh suit—”

“Don’t make me beg.” Levi snatches Erwin’s bicep, struggling for his attention. “You can rewear clothes—I’ve had to do it dozens of times. I’ll get the room clean. I’ll—” Deciphering Erwin’s reluctance, Levi realises what exactly is deterring his Master. “Fuck, I won’t say anything daft. Like before.”

“It wasn’t daft.” Erwin comes back to life to shoot down the self-deprecation. “Don’t think that.”

“Well, I do,” Levi fires back, suppressed anger coming to a head. “And I’m sorry.”

“I already told you not to apologise.”

“I have to. I’m going to be sorry when I make someone uncomfortable.” Levi throws his gaze at the ground. “And you clearly were. You’re not in the same position I am.”

Erwin hates watching this angel crumble with shame. He wants to help, but he finds himself just as lost. The leader needs guidance, and without it neither party is certain.

“It’s not that simple,” Erwin starts, wondering where to go next. Making his mind up, he swipes Levi off the ground and into the playroom. “Let’s get into bed. I’ll stay with you tonight.”

Levi doesn’t fight back, though he’s not overjoyed with Erwin’s consent. “So damn confusing,” he whispers, his body curled and small.

“I’m sorry.” Erwin flicks the sheets back and slides Levi’s body between them. “I don’t mean to be so irresolute. It must be disheartening to follow a timid Master.”

Levi sees the dam holding Erwin back—his own title. His expectations. “I don’t give a shit about that,” he counters, making room for Erwin to join him. “I don’t need you to be all perfect and mighty.”

“Yes, you do,” Erwin stupidly declares. “I can’t run a House if—”

“This isn’t about the damn House.” Levi pulls his partner in, demanding intimacy. “This is about you and me. Erwin and Levi. Not the House.”

Hugging his therapist, Erwin retreats into his mind to keep building his fortress of invulnerability. “Nevertheless, I have to keep a level head.”

“Who told you that? Your parents? The boys?” Levi shifts up, making sure his eyes are even with Erwin’s. “Because I sure didn’t.”

Erwin hesitates, distracting himself by brushing knuckles along Levi’s cheekbone. “I envy you,” he admits, his tone quiet. “Your emotional fortitude is remarkable.”

“It’s not flawless,” Levi deflects. “But maybe a little better than yours.”

“Hm.” Erwin agrees to that.

“Tell me what’s not simple,” Levi requests. “I’ll keep feeling shitty until I know.”

Erwin vows to stitch the wound he just opened. He has to.

“I don’t touch on love anymore.” Erwin already feels instinctive resistance to giving this confession, but he pushes through it. “It’s been years since I’ve considered it at all.”

“Mmhmm.” Levi doesn’t add anything. He wants the defendant to keep confessing.

“It’s…” Erwin can’t find the words. Memories cycle through his head, but none morph into what he should say. He just recalls feelings he can’t translate. “It’s…painful. If I had to label it.”

“Why?”

Like a defunct puppet, Erwin can only stare as his mind scrambles to piece itself back together. Love is painful, yes. It’s frightening. The Master has conquered sodomy and made it his domain, but love is the true devil he cannot vanquish.

Love demands he feel attraction to a man, and devote his heart to a man, and spend eternity with a man. Not once has he seen such an image on the streets. He never even witnessed sexuality between men until he built and observed connections in his House—his workshop. He cannot casually recreate the flourishing essence of love the same way.

Not as freely as the men and their wives of the city. Man and wife. That is what is correct. The House was formed in the pits of hell and placed on the earth, but its immorality stays caged within its walls. Man and man is wrong, yet wrongfulness is allowed in the Magnolia House.

Outside, it is not. Outside, man and husband would never survive.

It is wrong. Erwin’s mind is tailored to believe nothing else.

“Well, why did you throw Beast out?” Levi asks instead.

Erwin blinks, pulled out of his spiralling thoughts. “That’s an odd question.”

“Answer it anyways.”

Adhering to logic, Erwin picks the most reasonable response. “He cracked the bedroom door open. That violates the privacy of the session.”

“…Is that it?”

Erwin’s aware of what Levi’s alluding to. He’s acutely aware, because that reason takes up more space in his head than the door’s displacement. Levi screaming I love you to someone besides himself has tormented him all evening. He’d beg for the courtesan to repeat those words for himself if he had no sense of restraint.

“Be honest,” Levi presses.

It suggests Erwin is a jealous man, which tarnishes his position. The ruler of sodomy and polyamory cannot be jealous. He can’t insist one man stay loyal to him in a world where bodies are traded routinely.

Perhaps he could keep the heart, at least. The devotion of one’s heart isn’t needed for an appointment with a paying client.

Beast’s threat to that sanctity destroyed Erwin. He wants Levi’s vulnerability to himself, not shared as flippantly as his sexuality.

“I wish he hadn’t made you say those things,” Erwin confesses.

That answer comforts Levi. It feels good to the devotee to know his idol puts value on love.

“I regret doing it,” Levi admits in reciprocation. “I should’ve ended the scene. It’s not worth using special words just to please a client.”

Erwin soothes him by brushing black locks aside. “That’s alright. It was probably a slight at me, more than anything. Him and I had subtle quarrels over claiming your body.”

“Subtle?” Levi’s nose wrinkles.

“…Perhaps not as much as I thought.”

“No shit.”

“But he went further.” Erwin can walk through his own feelings, so long as he skirts around the pit of that forbidden word. “He tested a connection with you beyond your body, and I couldn’t stand it.”

“Fuck,” Levi sighs woefully. “You can admit all that, but…but nothing else?”

Erwin’s been injected with the same despair tormenting Levi, devastated by his partner's troubles. Pity morphs into guilt since he labels himself the cause for Levi’s anguish. He can’t confess anything else, which hurts the servant that’s already spilled his heart.

“Actually, I’m sorry,” Levi apologises before Erwin can. “I get your confusion. There’s not much I can offer, and I’m sorry about that. If I had something beyond my body—”

“That isn’t right.” Erwin coaxes Levi’s jaw shut, stopping the flow of self-deprecation. He can’t fight for his own feelings, but he’s vehement about Levi’s self-esteem. “Why would you think that? There is so much more to you beyond your physical beauty.”

Levi rests a hand on Erwin’s wrist, requesting it relax its grip. “Don’t make shit up for my sake. I know my body’s popular—I’m told that every day. I understand that it’s easier to lust for me than feel anything else.”

“No,” Erwin rumbles, withholding his anger. The sound of Levi’s low self-esteem is grating on Erwin’s ears. “You give me more than your body. Much more.”

“I said not to make shit up—”

“Your strength isn’t fictitious, Levi. You demonstrate strength when even I can’t—so much so that I feel weak existing beside you. You never think of yourself—you’re so selfless and quick to sacrifice, it’s almost a detriment. Do you truly think I don’t notice these parts of you?”

Levi swallows, his humility battling against Erwin’s praise. “I’m nothing special,” he counters, though softly.

“You are.” Erwin holds Levi’s skull and pulls him closer, hiding the sombre eyes that wound him. “I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to say the words that would assure you of that.”

Levi silently forgives him. He can’t keep pushing Erwin like this, craving an emotion that seems permanently sealed up in his mind. If love is painful for the Master, the last thing Levi wants to do now is cause more harm. Surrendering, he takes advantage of the rare condition under which he can actually get some sleep and huddles close to Erwin.

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, burying his face. “Thank you.”

Erwin wants to ask what exactly Levi could be grateful for, but he digresses. Enough of his pain is shouldered by the soldier already. Levi is done chipping at his stone heart, and now Erwin wishes nothing more than a full night’s rest for his subordinate.

Chapter Text

A week passes. Levi sees clients without issue, spends time in the lounge, and balances his chores properly. He’s even permitted to visit the market with Russell as his chaperone once the seventh day comes around again.

The air outside grows colder, to which Erwin laments he may not have adequate clothing for the men if Levi keeps giving it away to bereft children. Levi scoffs at him and ignores the comment, prioritising charity over loyalty.

In the early morning the day after, Levi sits in his bunk and waits for other courtesans to stir. Time is passed by tracing his finger over the letters on his salary’s envelope, determining where one letter ends and the next starts. They’re all connected, like thread tossed onto the parchment, but there must be some way in which they work independently yet come together to form his name.

All he knows is that this pattern says Levi. The string of script is quite pretty, produced by someone with excellent penmanship. Erwin’s handwriting is art to the audience that can’t even decipher it.

Levi tenses when the door swings open a half-hour before the procedural wake-up call. Titus pokes in, knocking on the wall to rouse his housemates. “Gentlemen,” he calls, distressed but quiet. “Wake up. Get up. The bobbies are coming in.”

“Shit,” Russell hisses, already wide awake and hurrying out of bed. “Up, everyone. We need to get dressed.”

“What?” Levi sits motionless as the room worriedly comes alive, courtesans dropping from bunks and sorting through their clothes.

“Come on.” Jules climbs down the ladder and takes his wrist, pulling him to the wardrobe. “We need to look nice, quickly.”

“What’s going on?” Levi’s forcibly given shirts and trousers while Jules searches. “Who’s coming?”

“The bobbies. The police.” Jules finds a full set of clothes for Levi first, then returns the arsenal and conducts a second scan for their own body. “They do this every now and then—search the place and poke around. Master’s gotten used to handling them, but we still need to do our best to not look like a molly-house.”

“Damn.” Levi starts stripping, joining the beehive of panic. “Are they going to shut us down? Or arrest us?”

“Master should have everything under control. He’s really good at persuading them.” Jules tears their nightgown off and leaps into baggy drawers. “Just—and I mean this now more than ever—please behave. The House is on the line right now.”

“Yeah, I get it.” The loyal soldier wouldn’t compromise his kingdom now.

He’s helped into an elegant outfit by his peers, fitted with a thin cravat that tucks into his inky waistcoat. He fixes his white cuffs as he darts to the washroom, joining several men trying to prepare as quickly and quietly as possible.

Among them, Kirk is piling small metal studs into a dish, doffing any piercing he can. He’s already blanketed his inked neck and arms under a coat, but his face now looks excessively bare and awfully punctured.

Levi pities the sight. This isn’t how Kirk wants to look—something painfully obvious by the way he sighs at himself in the mirror. Shedding his usual skin displaces his comfort and leaves him visibly disconnected from himself.

“They’re only going to sniff around, then leave, right?” Levi asks.

Kirk eyes his coworker, recognizing how clear his distress could seem. “That’s right,” he says to Levi and himself. “Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

“Good,” Levi soothes, glad to see Kirk’s expression soften. “Just one hour, and we’ll be okay.”

“Yeah. We will.”

Levi joins several of the older courtesans when they head downstairs, completely ignoring breakfast to expedite their journey to the battlefield. It’s still early, which Levi can’t decide is good or bad. No clients are here yet, but the boys are so flustered they might trip up.

He can see through the lounge and down the entrance hall, where Erwin is speaking to a man in uniform. Every button on the officer’s plain overcoat is fastened, like he must keep his body safe from the perversion in the air. He removes his helmet to reveal a bony face crowned by a crop of black hair moulded into shape by his helmet, with weak facial hair to complement it. He looks dead or bored—Levi can’t decide which is more fitting.

“Okay,” Russell whispers as they reach the landing. “It’s the same one. This is good.”

“Does Master know him?” Levi asks.

“Yes, fairly well. He and the constable attended university together.”

Erwin is gesturing to the main floor, offering the constable entry, but the officer shakes his head and checks his pocket watch. Erwin’s expression sours at some revelation the policeman tells, though he pieces it back together and remains confident, nodding once.

“That doesn’t seem good.” Russell adjusts his necktie, preparing for war. “Remember, Levi, call him Mr. Dawk and stay very polite. You snap at him once, and that could be the end for the House.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Levi pins himself to the wall beside the staircase and resumes his observation while the other gentlemen disperse through the space, all like vultures for the unwanted guest.

Erwin and Mr. Dawk briefly step back to the doors at the rear of the entrance hall, where they allow in a second individual. Erwin’s tense at the sight of him, his face composed but his mind surely racing in his skull.

He’s damn tall, surpassing Erwin by a few inches and really towering over Mr. Dawk. He’s probably older than both of them, illustrated by the wrinkles webbing around his sharp, keen eyes. Nothing about him screams constable—he sports a heavy trench coat far removed from the constabulary’s uniform and boasts hair the colour of Levi’s that almost reaches his shoulders.

Anyone that sees him becomes subconsciously aware that he’s the strongest being in the room. Even knowing better—between his power and Erwin’s—Levi can’t dispel that disturbing belief.

“Who is that?” he asks to Titus.

“No idea. Stay on your guard.”

Wary of his Master’s safety, Levi skirts the lounge and lingers at the opening to the entrance hall, fearlessly staring down the trio.

Erwin’s back to an amiable host. “Come in,” he offers. “Shall I get you two anything? Tea is available, or I have a shipment of Upmann cigars.”

“No.” Mr. Dawk is scanning the space, taking in every single detail of the forbidden House. He seems disgusted with simply stepping into the hellfire.

“Understood. And you, sir, I don’t believe we’ve met. My name’s—”

“Erwin Smith,” the colossal mystery interrupts, his voice ragged and harsh. “I know. Everybody knows you.”

Levi’s already battling to resist clocking that wretch in the jaw. This hour will be a painful one.

The wretch feels his glare, switching his attention to the short cat that stares him down. Unease creeps in Levi’s veins as he and the stranger connect, a heavier sense of dread than either Erwin or Beast could evoke.

“Would you like to look around?” Erwin offers to his guests.

“I’ve already scoured this place before,” Dawk answers. “Kenny?”

Relief washes over Levi when the stranger, Kenny, looks back at Erwin. “What’d you say this place was?”

“An inn.” Nobody is startled by Erwin’s lie, as if everybody is already quite aware that it’s not the truth.

Kenny nods, remembering to go along with the lie his partner warned him of. “Sure, sure. And the boys here? What do they do?”

“They’re employees.”

Kenny harrumphs. “Right.” He looks around the space again, scrutinising the sanctuary of sodomy. “I’m gonna take a look around.”

“Feel free,” Erwin permits.

Mr. Dawk stays with the Master while his partner wanders the space, both watching the menace trade daring glances with courtesans. “Forgive him,” Mr. Dawk sighs. “He’s an MP. Sent from the capital to oversee our local constabulary.”

“An MP?” Erwin fears the reputation of the mighty Metropolitan Police. “I’d expect him to demolish this place in a heartbeat if he were loyal to that title.”

“Then consider yourself lucky. He’s not as uptight as his peers.” Dawk hesitates, realising the power he wields with an esteemed officer as his partner. “Still, an MP’s silence will cost more than a local officer’s.”

Erwin sighs, anticipating that threat. “You’re cruel, Nile. You’ll run my business dry.”

“I think it’s merciful to spare you from the wrath of the capital courts. They construct the pillories at the drop of a hat, you know. With enough evidence and hatred, they’d probably put the ringleader up on the gallows.”

Erwin winces. “You’ve made your point.”

Kenny flippantly peels open the door to the Ivory Room, scanning the antechamber within. All spectators tense when he slips inside, out of view. Levi instantly takes off to supervise, to Erwin’s surprise.

He hovers in the doorway while Kenny crosses the antechamber and reveals the bedroom beyond. Neither of them are subtle, unanimously indifferent to decorum.

Kenny notices the cat prowling behind him. With a wrinkled smirk, he shuffles into the room and listens to the second pair of footsteps underneath his own. “G’morning,” he greets, the slurred word crawling with misintent. “Need something?”

Levi, against what his coworkers warned him of, scoffs. “Do you?”

Kenny drags a hand down the bedpost Levi had been bound to before. “Watch it, runt. This place is already walking on a tightrope.”

He’s right, to Levi’s dismay. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Levi apologises, aware that he could be the most potent reason this House is shut down.

“That’s what I thought.” Kenny flicks the sheets aside, searching for clues underneath them. “So, you work here?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“Serve clients.” Levi assumes his answer fits in the lie Erwin spilt.

“That so?” He moves to the bedside table, checking the waiting oil lamp and ashtray. “Are you paid for what you do?”

“Yeah. The Master gives us a salary on top of food and shelter.”

“The Master?” Kenny’s chuckle suggests that Levi shouldn’t have used that title. “Do you always call him that?”

Recoiling and stressed, Levi reconsiders. “Well, he deserves some respect. He’s done a lot to care for us.”

Kenny glances at the unusual servant over his shoulder. “You sound fuckin’ brainwashed, you know that?”

Levi stiffens, taking full offence to such a comment. How dare this stranger insult his devotion to the Master! He knows nothing of what Erwin does for the House. He’d be the same way in Levi’s position.

Dismissing it, Kenny slides open the top drawer and withdraws a clear bottle of lubricant.

“What’s this?” the officer asks, handing Levi the shovel to his own grave.

Levi, ignoring how much his stomach drops, crosses his arms and pins a shoulder to the door frame. “Lubricant. For sex.”

Kenny hums inquisitively as he inspects the fluid. “Do your occupants need it often?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

The line of conversation intrigues the policeman. He drops the bottle back into the drawer but keeps the interrogation going. “Women are pretty good at producing lubricant themselves. It’s a bit dramatic to provide more without request.”

“Not always,” Levi counters, though he’s not too keen on the truth. Maybe they do, or maybe they don’t.

“Would you know?” Kenny wonders, with good reason. “Or is that shit usually used on you?”

“That’s not your business.”

“It is. I’m here on duty to inspect this place.” Kenny fixes the sheets he displaced, strangely polite. “So tell me more about it.”

That curiosity could stem from a thorough MP, or—Levi theorises—it could be from a timid fanatic. Somebody interested, yet afraid of exploration.

It’s a long shot, but it’d be damn helpful if that were the truth. Perhaps this man heard of Dawk’s necessary inspection of the Magnolia House and innocently requested to tag along. A sodomite amongst the police force, left in charge of inspecting the House? It’s the perfect way to slip under the eyes of the law by using a corrupt official.

“Interested?” Levi risks.

“I s’pose.” Kenny braces his back against the bedpost and drinks in his tour guide.

It’s too vague of an answer to tell. Levi treads closer.

“I don’t need to spell it out. You’re not daft. You know what happens here.”

“Tell me anyways,” Kenny deadpans.

Levi peers at the bed before bringing his eyes up Kenny’s frame. “I don’t need to,” he murmurs, taking the hem of his trench coat with a gentle, teasing hand. “If you’re so desperate to experience it, go book a room with the Master. I’ll make sure Mr. Dawk isn’t around to witness your little sin.”

Kenny doesn’t seem excited by the suggestion, but he’s not viciously shutting it down either. He seems to be tolerating it, subjugating himself to this display for reasons unknown.

“And,” Kenny sighs, pushing through. “If I did speak with—with Erwin, would you service me?”

Levi’s pleased to hear the idea bounce around in his opponent’s head. This might be working.

However, he does disturb Levi, and he does seem like grave news just by merely existing. As a client, Levi senses no compassion in this man. He could be sadistic, too, like Beast.

He could be worse than Beast. Still, getting booked with him means he’d become a part of the system—loyal to the House and bound by Erwin’s word. Levi is happy to suffer for that outcome.

He inches closer, slotting a foot between Kenny’s. “If you picked me, absolutely.” The word is spoken with desire and charm, Levi lifting onto his toes to make sure his victim feels every intimate syllable.

Kenny’s not lustfully crumbling, nor rejecting the advances. He only sighs. “This…this is too fuckin’ uncanny.” He has a full, clear view of Levi’s face, and he’s troubled by the sight of it.

Levi’s not used to the way this man is looking at him. He’s seen Erwin cast gazes of despair before, but Kenny’s expression is filled with a different sort of discomfiture. He seems to regret simply seeing Levi.

It makes Levi anxious. He’s lost in fog, unable to interpret what this man is feeling in his presence. “What is?” he asks, rubbing the shockingly firm muscles on Kenny’s shoulder.

Kenny’s done with the farce. He can’t tolerate this melodrama anymore. “Get off me.”

“Hm?” Levi hesitates, only because he doesn’t want his plan to crumble. If he fails here, the security of the House is balancing on Kenny’s reaction.

“Off,” Kenny barks. “I’m not into men.”

Levi’s fucked. He made advances on a moral man, on an officer of the law that’ll determine if his sanctuary is allowed to keep running. Stupidly, he prays there’s still a tiny chance.

“You don’t have to convince me,” Levi tries, cocking his head coyly. “I don’t care if you are, or not.”

Levi’s jerked up in a flash, his cravat yanked by the towering officer. “Did you not hear me?” Kenny rasps. “I said off.”

Levi barely catches himself before he crashes into the back of an armchair, his frame ill-prepared for such force. Kenny’s strong, but Levi is just agile enough to counter it. “Fuck,” he grunts, cursing his failure more than Kenny’s assault.

“You’re so fuckin’ creepy.” Kenny cringes at the glaring cat, lost for words to describe his disgust. “Fuck, I hope I’m wrong.”

“What?” Levi stands defensively, wary of his aggressive opponent. “About what? Your damn sexuality?”

“No, you molly runt.” Kenny marches to the door, circling the circus freak. “I’m not into men. I’m not into you. If you knew any better—if I’m right—you’ll wish you’d have never tried that shit.”

“What?” Following, Levi yearns for an explanation. “Why? Don’t just leave—”

Erwin’s negotiating hush money with Nile when he sees Kenny emerge, Levi far beyond him. His heart thuds, his mind flooded with worried theories of what went on in the bedroom.

“Are you done?” Kenny snaps to his partner. “We’ve got better shit to do than take a tour of a whorehouse.”

Erwin physically twitches, clenching the coins he is trying to offer to Nile. He should’ve known Levi would’ve provoked the enemy, intentionally or not.

“What happened?” Nile asks, but Kenny’s already ignoring him and changing his attention to Erwin.

“Erwin,” Kenny snaps. “That runt over there. What’s his name?”

Erwin sees his treasure near the Ivory Room, held back by Russell. “Why do you need to know?”

“His name, Erwin. I’ll have a squad here within the hour if you don’t tell me.”

Erwin’s a slave to the law. His House is powerful, but not against the one force that can destroy it. He has to obey.

“Levi,” he mumbles, his pride shattered.

“His surname?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, peacock.”

“I honestly don’t know.” Erwin wishes he did, just to soothe the devil. “Ask him yourself. He doesn’t know, and none of us are aware.”

Kenny trusts that, ending the dialogue with a scoff. “Are you done, Nile?”

Nile waits for Erwin to dispense an excruciating amount of bribery money. “Is there a problem with this place?”

Kenny eyes the courtesan that failed to entice him, dithering between hatred and curiosity. “For now, no. It’s fine. Where’s that money?”

Despite that confirmation, Erwin’s not comforted. He doesn’t feel hopeful for his House’s safety. “Here.” He offers his payment to Kenny, hoping to convince the irritable officer into a firmer stance.

Kenny tears the pouch out of Erwin’s hand and shoves it into his pocket. “Don’t let that kid leave this place. If he’s gone the next time I come by, I’ll burn this shithole to the ground.”

If the only requirement to continue operating is already the norm, Erwin can easily comply. “That won’t be an issue. He’ll be here.”

“Fine. C’mon, Nile. I’m sick of this place.”

Nile’s stuck following his immovable partner, casting only a wary glance at Erwin before he exits with Kenny, leaving the Magnolia House.

Erwin stands still while one of his subordinates follows the constables, just to make sure they really leave. He feels miserable, typical for the feeling following the officers’ inspection but made worse by the appearance of that new vermin.

“Levi.” He’s already calling for his victimised treasure. He needs to know the story, and he needs a source of comfort.

“Master.” Levi sheds the cravat and undoes a few buttons as soon as the nuisances are gone. “Is the House alright?”

“For now. What happened? Do you know that man?”

“I don’t.” Levi folds and refolds the fabric. “I don’t know what happened. I just hope nothing’s been screwed up.”

“We’ll see.” Erwin sees his men, and he detests the looks of worry plaguing their faces. The situation has left a terrible taste in everyone’s mouth.

As the Master, he has to resolve that.

“Gentlemen,” he calls to the room. “Clients will be here soon. Eat if you haven’t yet and prepare for them. Titus, take charge. I’ll be out of the House for a half-hour.”

“Where’re you going?” Levi asks.

“Just fetching ingredients for dinner.” Erwin rests a hand on Levi’s shoulder, soothing his dependent kitten. “We all need some entertainment after this. I’ll be staying late tonight.”

“Thank you!” Jules shouts as they patter down the stairs, coming out of hiding. “I missed our parties, Master! Can you get us some sweets?”

“I will,” Erwin promises. “But focus on your duties today, or I’ll keep them locked up for another time.”

“Aye aye!” Jules salutes wildly before hurrying to the entrance hall, excited to obey.

Levi doesn’t know what to expect, but he is pleased to see the men around him relax. Whatever Erwin can conjure, it must excite his subordinates.

Levi only has two clients that day, repeat customers that he knows how to please. After demanding one scoundrel lick his own semen off the floor and carelessly spreading his legs for another, he disappears upstairs and bathes.

Within the hour, courtesans finish their duties and wander upstairs, the Master among them. Several help finish preparing a feast of mutton, potatoes, and rich gravy, taking heaps of food to the dining area. While Levi’s served beside Erwin, he wonders where the stringency on rationing had gone.

“Have you had mutton, Levi?” Erwin asks as he slides a slice onto Levi’s plate.

“I don’t think so.”

“You’ll enjoy it. What spirits do you prefer? I usually buy a variety for the men.”

“Spirits?” Levi notices the army of bottles waiting on a separate table. “Oh, those. I don’t drink that shit.”

“No?” Erwin accepts the glass of brandy poured for him by Titus. “Why not?”

“Screws with my head. I assume it does, anyway. Every drunkard I’ve seen has been a raging moron.” Levi stabs a fork into his meat.

“I understand that.” Erwin drinks, relishing the sensation of burning alcohol. “I promise you, my gentlemen aren’t violent when they’re intoxicated. Loud, maybe, but safe.”

“Do you drink with them often?”

“Every now and then. Usually just for special occasions.” Erwin watches his boys happily munch and talk. “Or when we’re all clearly stressed. Are you certain you don’t want a taste?”

Levi ruminates on the pool of dark liquid in Erwin’s glass, imagining what exactly that hellish liquid tastes like. “I’m alright. You and the men can drink; I’ll just keep an eye on you guys.”

“That’s very kind of you. Alert me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I will.”

The air grows warmer as time passes, blood rushing in everyone’s bodies. Levi pairs his mutton with perfectly brewed tea, relishing the drink as much as his housemates are enjoying theirs. Erwin’s grin is more unrestrained as his glass level lowers, and by the time he replenishes it it seems to become a permanent fixture on his face.

“Rare to join us for drinks without a reason,” Kirk comments as he takes a seat near Erwin. “Did the bobbies really mess with you today?”

“Slightly,” Erwin admits. “I didn’t expect Nile to bring reinforcements.”

“Yeah, who was that guy?” Kirk asks to either Erwin or Levi.

Levi shrugs. “No idea. Just some creep.”

“At least Nile was the same,” Kirk continues. “Did he talk about his wife and such?”

“Yes,” Erwin laments. “I was proudly informed they’re trying for a child.”

Kirk scoffs, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Is he trying to make you jealous?”

“Doubtful. He’s never been aware of our history.”

Levi catches notice of that detail, interested in following Erwin’s teaser. “History? What, did something happen at university?”

“My gentlemen didn’t tell you?” Erwin hovers his glass close to his lips, about to drink.

“They told me you two went to university together.” Levi’s eyes narrow. “What else happened?”

“Ah, it’s quite embarrassing to retell it now.” Smiling, Erwin stalls by taking a whimsical sip.

“Tough. Tell me.”

Setting his glass down, the Master slides an joyful, almost bashful eye to Levi. “I was quite taken with him during my time at university.”

Levi mentally takes the image of that bony constable and slots it into the frame of one of Erwin’s past schoolyard pashes. “Him, of all people? That rat-faced prig? God, what the hell did you see in him?”

Surrendering, Erwin shrugs as he takes up his fork. “He aged poorly, I admit.”

“His facial hair didn’t age at all. Seriously, were you horny for that pathetic excuse of a moustache?”

“Cruel,” Erwin laughs, indifferent to Levi’s bullying. “I had a different perspective in my younger years, perhaps. I promise you, I’m not pining for him anymore.”

Levi shrinks, honing his attention on his dish. “You don’t need to promise me anything.”

“I do,” Erwin responds, but he leaves the sentence hanging.

Two snogging courtesans topple a few chairs, to which Levi is immediately alert. He excuses himself and rises to help, ignoring a housemate’s slurred promise that they’re not doing any harm.

“Levi, please,” Jules whines as they watch Levi pull Chester and Earl off the ground. “They’re just fooling around.”

“They’re going to crack their skulls.” Levi forces either courtesan into separate chairs, to which they both giggle and claw for each other’s bodies. “Good grief. Light drinkers, you two?”

“Mmhmm,” Chester answers as he clambers back onto Earl’s lap.

“Idiots.”

“They’re having fun!” Jules defends as they stumble out of their seat. “Come have fun!”

“I won’t drink—hey—” Levi lets the tipsy courtesan reel him in, Jules clinging fiercely to his bicep. “What’s your deal?”

“Was everything okay with that greasy bobbie?” Jules wonders, rubbing a cheek against Levi’s shoulder. “I really thought he did something to you. Gosh, I was so worried.”

“I’m fine,” Levi says stiffly, deciding against pushing his colleague away. “He was just a dick. At least we still have the House.”

“Yeah. I just got here—I don’t want it to end.”

“Just got here?”

“Well, I’ve only been here a year. But that’s, like, young. I wanna stay here longer than a year.”

Levi guides Jules back down to a seat, hoping they’ll relax their grip on his arm. “And how was that? Coming to the House, I mean.”

Jules is happy to indulge Levi in their backstory as drinks are downed around them and the volume level rises. Courtesans perform lopsided ballroom dances behind Jules as they describe their home life before escaping, a rather dismal story compared to the joviality around them. Levi listens, focused, and thanks them for sharing. He suggests they join Kirk, who currently lacks a dancing partner for nonexistent music.

“Haven’t you heard of a waltz?” Kirk laughs to his new friend, showing which hands go where.

Levi’s amused by Jules’ struggle, glad to see the courtesan taken care of in a place that appreciates them.

“Hold on, who’s the man here? Put—yeah, your hand on my waist.”

“Fine, then you’re holding my shoulder. No, not both. Other hand. There. Now take my hand.”

Levi’s brow softens as he watches the clumsy exchange of joy. Silently, he admits that he cherishes this House so much.

“Levi.” Erwin has somehow teleported behind him and calls for him with a heavily inebriated voice. “I’m…going to sit beside you.”

Levi’s unfazed. “Ask nicely,” he mutters sarcastically.

“Levi.” Erwin tips to his side and holds his shoulder, his fingers so tense they tremble. “May I please sit beside you?”

“Good grief!” Levi nearly throws Erwin into the chair next to his, left reeling from the extremely subservient question. “I was joking, Erwin. Just sit down.”

“Thank you,” Erwin says anyway as he collapses in the chair. “You’re very kind.”

“It’s a damn chair.” Levi returns his focus to the stumbling dancers, making sure they don’t crash into the table of open bottles. “Don’t be a nebbish for me.”

“I wouldn’t.” Erwin moves his body one limb at a time to rediscover proper posture, recalibrating with clasped hands on the tabletop and half-lidded eyes on Levi. “I’m just grateful.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“Mm, that too. Have you had anything to drink?”

“No. I don’t drink.”

“Ah, that’s right. I forgot.”

“Idiot.”

Erwin swims in the results of his brandy, his ironclad mind now turned to jelly. All he sees is Levi, the centre of his attention and life.

He can’t think of anything else, and it’s driving him mad. Just Levi, Levi, Levi. It’s endless.

It’s the alcohol’s fault, definitely. And the constables. And Beast. And every client that’s touched this treasure. It’s the universe’s fault for not bringing him this angel sooner. For tainting the spotless god. For denying him the security to obsess over this idol freely.

“Levi,” Erwin murmurs, extending a hand. “Let me—please, may I hold you?”

Levi dismisses the cup of water Titus offers him and turns his attention to Erwin. “You can, as long as you’re not stupid about it.”

As soon as permission is granted, Erwin draws Levi onto his lap and clings to his torso, grateful for his stuffed animal. “Thank you.”

“Fuck, you’re out of it.” Levi adjusts to fix his position and keeps scanning the space.

“I’m sorry.” Erwin lifts his head, fighting to focus his eyes on Levi. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine.” Levi laces an arm behind Erwin’s back, reciprocating his embrace.

Erwin appears similar to a destitute child. “Do you like it when I hold you?”

Levi doesn’t want to answer that with an audience, no matter how vulnerable he’s allowed to be in these walls. “Yeah,” is all he can give. “Just enjoy yourself, Erwin. Don’t worry about me.”

“Thank you. You’re so kind to me.” Erwin secures strong hands on Levi’s thigh and waist, trying to merge their bodies together. He finds his angel’s eyes, weary blue ones meeting focused grey ones. “And beautiful. You know you’re beautiful, Levi?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“Humble, too.” Erwin’s shameless in his praise, allowing anybody nearby to hear. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

Levi clenches his teeth, thinking on how to shut up the flow of words. Nobody needs to know this, even though everyone can hear it. Topics of love should be saved for a sober, private moment.

Levi can feel a few lingering gazes on his back. “I’m not trying anything—”

“Well, it’s working,” Erwin continues anyway.

“Erwin—”

“I think I understand. I think. What you felt—you’re feeling—it’s making sense to me.” Erwin’s gaze is remarkably focused while Levi flicks his eyes to Russell, the most attentive spectator. “Ah, I feel like I’m losing my head.”

“You are,” Levi stresses. “Please, be quiet.”

“Why?” Erwin challenges, blind to those around him. “I’m free to do what I’d like in my House.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me,” Levi grumbles.

Russell can’t help much, but he offers what little is possible. “Maybe you two should head upstairs.”

Levi likes the sound of that. At least then, they’ll have some privacy for Erwin to spill his mind without anyone noticing. “Hear that? Let’s get your sorry ass upstairs.”

“Why? My gentlemen—I shouldn’t leave them right now. I should stay.” Erwin feels no urgency, especially with Levi safely in his grasp. “You can stay with me, too.”

Levi’s stuck in the Master’s arms unless he intends to fight his way out and stir a commotion. Instead, he plots a different method to move the ox.

Situating his lips by Erwin’s ear, he makes sure a gentle exhale tickles the lobe first. “Listen, Erwin,” he whispers, feeling the hands on his body squeeze. “I’m going upstairs, with or without you. It’s dim, quiet, and private up there.” He drops the special, telling word right into Erwin’s ear while his slender finger traces a tantalising line up his nape. “So make up your mind. Come with me, or stay here.”

Erwin’s breath is held, his posture stiff. Levi has him absolutely hooked, and he knows it. “You’re powerful,” he murmurs, arousal and intoxication mixing. “So damn powerful.”

Levi lightly scratches fingers through blond hair and gives a gentle tug. “Come on, Erwin.”

“Right.” Erwin’s on his feet, Levi in his arms.

“No, no. Not like that.” Doubtful of Erwin’s coordination, Levi successfully worms out and stands, taking a few of Erwin’s fingers in his hand. “Let me guide you.”

“Alright.”

“Russell, will everyone be okay down here?” Levi starts weaving through the tables as he asks.

“Yeah. Just take care of the Master.”

Upstairs, one lamp paints the walls orange and provides a great amount of shadows, Levi’s and Erwin’s amongst them. He brings Erwin to his half of the quarters, both relieved to be in the quietude the room offers. “Cramped,” Levi apologises. “But at least it’s empty here. How are you feeling?”

“I feel good.” Erwin smooths his hair back, his mind cleared just a bit by the walk up. “The floor’s rumbling.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty rowdy down there.” Levi lowers to his knee, bringing hands to Erwin’s shoe. “I hope we don’t wake your neighbours.”

Erwin frowns at his lowly submissive. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting your clothes off.” Levi lifts his ankle and peels a dress shoe off his foot. “You’re not sleeping in all these layers.”

“Ah.” Erwin holds the door frame, keeping himself stable for Levi. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Mmhmm.” Levi sets the pair of shoes aside and rises to work on Erwin’s suit. “I can’t leave you alone.”

Erwin watches his coat become removed from his body, Levi’s hands working quickly and confidently. “Perhaps not. I can’t seem to think straight.”

“Clearly.” Levi detaches to hang up the coat in his wardrobe.

“It’s troubling when I can’t think about what I say.” Erwin’s anchored to the entrance unless Levi guides him elsewhere. “Nevertheless, I have the right. I built a House to give myself that right.”

“Congratulations, Almighty Master.” With his back turned, Levi works the garment onto a hanger. “Still, you shouldn’t be saying things like that right now.”

“I don’t see why not.” Erwin hears cheers from below him as some courtesan performs an amazing spectacle. “Even if it’s not in a clear state of mind, I am allowed to say what I want to here.”

“That’s the issue.” Levi returns, putting hands on his Master’s chest. “You’re drunk as hell.”

“Hardly.”

The inebriated one can’t determine his own capability. Levi wishes the alcohol didn’t hinder him by allowing him freedom—his lack of restraint reveals truths that remain buried under insecurities. “Tell me: when you’re sober, and when you’re annoyed by all the shit that worries you, will you be able to repeat what you said?”

Levi’s earnest eyes demand an earnest answer. Erwin takes his time to think with a defunct mind.

“I don’t know.”

Receiving the response he expected, Levi nods once and begins undoing the line of buttons in front of him. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, then.”

In a few minutes, Erwin’s been stripped and forced into a trip to the washroom before settling in Levi’s bed, his small attendee sitting beside him. The Master takes up a significant amount of room on the tiny mattress, leaving a square of acreage for Levi to occupy.

“Lay down,” the Master urges.

“Just get to sleep.” Levi allows his outstretched leg to be owned by Erwin, the drunkard clinging to the fat of the limb. The frame of the bed isn’t comfortable to lean against, though he would never complain. “I’ll be here the entire night.”

“Levi,” Erwin murmurs, his tone reading as a pout.

But when Levi runs fingertips through his blond hair, he goes quiet as his eyelids flutter shut. He can’t resist the feeling, lulled by alcohol and his partner’s touch to heed the call of slumber.

Watching the heavy frame breathe, Levi’s gaze softens. This sight soothes him: the uptight Master open and unguarded, yet secure under his protection. He’s grateful for that responsibility.

“Poor thing,” Levi whispers, his smitten eyes fixed on his enormous pet.

Chapter Text

Erwin’s head aches. He sits at his desk, dressed in the same suit from yesterday, puffing on a cigar that worsens his tumbling head. There’s a glass of water left by Levi, one that he forgets about—or intentionally neglects. It’s classless to sip bland water in the presence of a valued guest.

The guest has already left his office quite some time ago, yet his presence lingers. Erwin feels an invisible pair of eyes watch him as he sits poised and smokes, his brow furrowed.

Valued is an overstatement for the constable that came by, but Erwin’s charisma necessitated courtesy to an officer of the law. Despite his unease, he showed an affability that not his ailment nor anxiety could hinder. His facade is still flawless and firm.

He’s grateful to know he hasn’t lost his best asset, despite last night’s delirium. Though, the unexpected visitor has crowded his mind and given him no time to consider what he had proclaimed to Levi in his stupor.

His hands burn when he picks up the folded parchment Kenny left behind, the secret note bearing a sentence Kenny is certain Levi will corroborate. If what the vermin said is true, Erwin is hesitant to face that.

Two knocks sound from the door before it’s cracked open. “Hey,” Levi greets as he slinks into the room. He still wears the waistcoat from yesterday, apparently taking a liking to the outfit. “I give you water, and you take up a cigar instead?” He frowns at his rebellious child as he comes closer.

“Levi, I must speak with you.” Erwin rises, taking the folded paper and relocating to the couch. “Sit with me.”

Levi transplants the water glass to the low table before taking the opposite couch. “Fine. Drink your water.”

Erwin eyes the glass, then his nurse. Compliant, he abandons his cigar prematurely in an ashtray and draws the cup closer. “You’ve been with a client this morning, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see anyone besides the courtesans and customers come through?”

“I don’t think so. I just finished washing up, though. I haven’t been in the lounge.”

“Right.” So he likely didn’t witness Kenny coming or going. The constable’s visit was brief, anyway. “Levi, I need to share something quite serious with you.”

“Yeah, I figured. Out with it.”

Erwin fears the outcome of this conversation; he truly does not want to conduct it. He reminds himself that it is his duty as the Master to care for his subordinate and allow him to thrive. Even if he wants to own and protect the treasure, he acknowledges that Levi has the freedom to choose his own path.

He could deny Levi knowledge of that choice, though his own mind instantly alerts him that such secrecy is cruel. He’s done being cruel—this conversation will be heavy proof of that.

“What’s your surname?”

Levi frowns, rejecting the query. “I’m sick of that question. I don’t know.”

“Absolutely?” Erwin presses. “There’s nothing you learned in the brothel? Your mother, mentioning it. Or the other women, perhaps. Anything?”

“Believe me, I’ve tried. My mother never told me. Nobody did. Nobody knows. I’d have come up with a fake surname by now if I needed one.”

Erwin swallows. If the unknown sentence under the folds in that parchment is true, somebody knows. The suspense is destroying him, but he remains patient and strategic.

“Levi,” Erwin starts again, his tone grim. “What…what is your mother’s name?”

Levi slouches back and crosses his arms. He’s quiet.

He doesn’t announce ignorance. He knows her name, of course.

“Why do you ask that?” he wonders, holding the answer back from Erwin.

“Please.” Erwin can only handle so much resistance. He’ll grow impatient if he’s not given a name. “I need her name. I need you to give me her name first.”

“Before you explain what’s going on?” Levi guesses the second half of Erwin’s demand. “Or before somebody else tells you?”

Whether or not he’s serious, he’s right. The sentence will tell Erwin if Levi doesn’t.

Well, it might. It depends on Levi’s answer.

“Levi, I implore you. I’ll explain once I know her name.”

Levi is pained to see Erwin so distressed. This isn’t the anger he operated with when he demanded Beast’s name. This is desperation, fear for Levi’s safety.

“Her name was Kuchel.”

Erwin feels his heart thud. He’s been given the news, though he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad yet. This is merely the key, and since he possesses the key he’s obligated to use it and unlock the truth.

Steeling himself, he picks up the folded paper. “Thank you,” he breathes before peeling it open.

My sister’s name was Kuchel. She died seventeen years ago.

–Kenny

The worst has come to light. The names match. The timeline matches. Without meeting with the constable, Levi has validated his testimony. Erwin feels sick.

Too many doors are opened with this truth. Familial connections are made known, which exacerbates the seductive advances Kenny explained Levi made on him.

“Talk, Erwin. Quit staring and tell me what’s going on.”

Erwin snaps his eyes up, tense underneath Levi’s glare. He has to bear this revelation, and worse, he has to relay it to Levi.

“Kenny came by,” he starts, devastated to see the colour drain from Levi’s face. “He gave me this slip. I was told not to read it until I confirmed the truth from you first.”

“What does it say?” Levi barely allows Erwin to finish his sentence before he interrupts.

Erwin wishes he could allow the boy’s illiteracy to blind him. He could leave this paper in plain view, and Levi would never be able to grasp the truth.

But he cannot be cruel. He must recite what’s been written.

“Kenny wrote: My sister’s name was Kuchel. She died—”

“Sick joke.” Levi burns with rage, about to leap up and attack his Master. “What the fuck? Why would you fuck with me like that?!”

“Levi, listen.” Erwin feels no stronger than a mouse under Levi’s terrified wrath. “I promise you, this is exactly as it’s written. I’ll have Russell come read it too, to verify. I did not invent this.”

“Give it,” Levi snaps, leaning forward and snatching the paper from Erwin. He can’t read the text, but he can analyse the style.

Stilted letters, written by a coarse hand. Far removed from Erwin’s elegance.

“Shit,” Levi sighs. There’s no mistaking it. He’s joining Erwin in the crushing hell of awareness. “What—what the hell does this mean?”

“…I assume Kenny was your mother’s brother.”

“That can’t be right.” Perhaps if Levi refuses it enough, his rejection will become reality.

“Did your mother pass when you were seven years old?”

The parchment creases in Levi’s grip. “Yes. She did.”

“It’d be quite the coincidence for his sister and your mother to be different people.”

“I know that,” Levi gnarls, tossing the paper back onto the table. “If he’s…fuck, if I’m related to that shithead—” He pauses as a memory slips through his head. The memory, already sour, turns vile with new knowledge applied to it.

Erwin feels the realisation sink in Levi, the courtesan undergoing the brutal process he has already cycled through.

“Shit,” Levi curses. “Yesterday…I—”

“I know. Kenny told me.” Erwin won’t expect him to confess what happened, nor spotlight his sin any further. “Please know that you’re not at fault. You had no way of knowing the truth.”

“Still.” Levi can spare no words, too smothered in his own guilt.

Erwin has to redirect, having learned techniques from his pseudo-counsellor. “That’s all he told me. He gave me his full name and this sentence testifying he’s related to Kuchel. Have you heard the surname Ack—”

“No,” Levi bellows.

Erwin’s frozen. “What?”

“Don’t—don’t tell me. I don’t want to know his surname.” Levi seems to shrink on the couch, hugging himself fiercely. “That name—whatever it is—means nothing to me.”

“Levi, it was your mother’s surname too.”

“I don’t care. I don’t need a name to know that she’s my mother.” Levi, to Erwin’s amazement, is resolute in existing only as Levi. He needs no family name to bind himself to.

Erwin accepts Levi’s choice. These decisions are his to make, and it’s not Erwin’s place to assume control.

“Very well. You know this won’t change your relation to Kenny, right?”

“I know.”

“Good. Beyond that, I’m clueless. Besides admitting his relation to you, Kenny told me nothing else.”

“Did he say he was coming back?”

“He didn’t.” Erwin pauses. “He might, though.”

“Yeah, he might.” Levi looks to the door, wondering if it’ll be reopened soon. “I don’t want him poking around the House. It’s dangerous for the courtesans.”

“No doubt.”

Levi’s already shouldering the burden whether or not he’s obligated to. “I’ll keep an eye out. If he comes around again, I’ll handle him. Don’t let him near the others.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“And drink your damn water.” Levi rises, off to seclude himself and think. “You’ll die young if you never take care of yourself.”

Erwin obeys, allowing Levi to exit while he rereads that detrimental sentence and sips.

For the day, Levi lingers in the parlour, assuming a spot at the fake receptionist desk with sharp eyes focused on the window. He’s nominated himself as the guard dog of the House, examining every stranger that enters the space. Nobody will pass without his scrutiny.

It’s the only way to protect his housemates. The next day, he eats his breakfast at the desk, picking apart a bread roll while the Master unlocks the front door.

“Good morning.” Erwin sheds his gloves and works his topcoat off his shoulders. “Is there something of interest in the parlour?”

“No. But I’m staying here until my appointment in the afternoon.”

“To keep watch?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to scare all my customers away if you glare at each one like you’re doing to me.”

“Small price to pay for keeping vermin out. I’d rather leave a few folks rattled than allow that fucker back inside.”

“Well, do as you’d like. Don’t run off.”

“Shame. I was really planning on it.”

Erwin enters the main area, dismissive of Levi’s unusual perch.

Hours pass, during which Levi pointlessly shines the arsenal of fake keys and gazes at the sparse thoroughfare outside. He sees clients enter, some of which recognise him and greet him amiably. Others know him too well, cowering at the sight of their former Dominant, while some assume he’s a new security measure for the House. He allows them all in, promising he’s not interested in antagonising them.

Rather, his real target appears just after midday, slipping inside as nonchalantly as a veteran client.

“Hold it,” Levi snaps, darting out from behind the counter. “Not another step, shithead.”

Kenny’s indifferent to the snarling dog, casting a lazy glance over to him as he clicks the door shut. He hardly seems awake as he lazily adjusts his trilby hat. “G’day. How’ve you been?”

“Don’t give me that.” Levi entirely forgets this miscreant is an officer capable of wrecking his sanctuary, and thus should be approached with caution. All he remembers is his hatred. “What’re you doing here? What do you want?”

Kenny chills the air as he saunters through the space, keeping Levi in the corner of his vision. “You expect me to drop a lead like this? Your owner had to have spoken with you, right?”

“He did,” Levi answers, ignoring the title. “And my mother was your sister. So what?”

“So what?” Lines crease Kenny’s forehead as he scowls at his ignorant nephew. “We’re family, runt. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Not really. I don’t know who you are.”

Kenny swings around to face Levi. “You need a damn introduction? Fine.” He takes Levi’s hand fiercely in his own, crushing the tiny appendage in an exaggerated handshake. “Hello, kid. I’m your Uncle Kenny.”

“Quit—let go.” Levi wrenches his hand free and backpedals away. “I don’t care if we’re blood-related. I’ve never met you before.”

Kenny only prowls closer, his shadow engulfing Levi. “You should care. It means a lot for the two of us.”

“Like what?” Levi grumbles, his hips stopping at the counter.

“For me, a new responsibility. For you, an escape from this damned place.”

The notion is of no interest to the courtesan. “I don’t need an escape.”

Guffawing, Kenny throws a glance around the empty parlour. “What, you like it in this shithole? Have you lost your mind?”

Levi takes full offence. “Fuck off. I made the choice to come here.”

“Right. I’m sure your top job choice was spreading your legs for men. Don’t you have a conscience? What person in their right mind would work here?”

“It’s my choice,” Levi insists, daringly stepping forward. “You have no influence on what I do.”

“Fine, maybe not me.” Kenny draws his voice back down to gruff, simmering contempt. “What about Kuchel?”

“Excuse me? Don’t say her name. You have no right—”

“She’s my sister, kid. I have every right.” Kenny shoots a hand out and curls fingers into Levi’s collar, ensuring his trapped student pays full attention. “You’re her son, and you’re in here living exactly the same life she did. Hell, an even worse one, somehow.”

“Shut up.” Balancing on his toes, Levi grapples his opponent’s wrist and starts cleaving fingers off his shirt.

Kenny doesn’t even register the counterattack. “Do you honestly think it’s normal to do what she did? Prostitution is fucking repulsive.”

“Don’t say that about her—”

“You really think this is how she wanted her little boy to turn out? A dirty fuckin’ sodomite?”

“Enough!” Levi roars, gouging fingers into Kenny’s shirt. “You do not know her. You clearly weren’t there for her—not when she suffered, not when I was born, not when she died. I don’t know you because you never fucking showed up. Why the fuck would I listen to you now?”

“Because I’m here now!” Kenny throws Levi back, slamming his frame into the counter.

Levi gasps in nothing as the wind leaves his lungs, battered by impact. An ache rolls through his muscles as he peels himself off the countertop, determined to stay in the battle. He’s braced and ready to strike, but Kenny has already taken a step back.

“I wasn’t there then, but I’m here now.” Kenny shoves his hands into his trench coat and rolls his neck, replacing his temperament with contemplation. “She’s gone, but I’m here, and you’re here, and we’re the only ones left in our wretched family.”

Levi swallows, forces an inhale in, and grips the counter behind him. “We’re not family.”

Kenny sighs and smooths out his thin beard. “Kuchel’s important to us. That makes us family enough.”

“It does not.”

The stubborn cat vexes Kenny, though he keeps his tone level. “I don’t care if you’re sick of me. I know you love her, and she’d want you to live a better life than this. She’d hate me if I walked away after learning you’re her son.” He sighs, looking over the product of his sister’s lifestyle. “I owe it to her to look after you.”

The prospect startles Levi. “The hell are you saying?”

Kenny nods to the doors. “Come back with me, kid. My salary’s plenty for the two of us. I’ll send you to the academy—get you through the schooling you missed out on. Make you a better person. Make Kuchel proud. All that shit.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Levi immediately rejects the offer. “I hardly know you.”

“I don’t need you to know me. I need you to do what’s best for you and your mother’s memory. Don’t you get that?”

Nothing clear comes to Levi’s mind. He thinks of his mother, but he also witnesses this malefactor before him. Emotions of the two individuals clash.

“You’re not going to just take me away from the House,” he decides on saying.

“You need to think on it?” Kenny interpreted the declaration strangely. “Fine. Don’t leave this place. I’ll be back within the week—you’d better be packed by then.”

“Wait—you can’t be serious.” Levi steps forward as Kenny begins drifting to the door.

“I’m not kidding. Seriously, did you think I came here because I feel pity for a sodomite?” Kenny tears the door open, causing a gust of wind to tilt his hat. “I’m here for Kuchel’s sake. You ought to sympathise with that and join me.”

Levi’s lost for words. He holds back, guarded, and tangles up his own mind while Kenny exits.

Sick to his stomach, he marches back into the House with frustration souring his expression. Upon seeing a coworker he sets his face into dull indifference, refusing to let anyone witness his distress. Nobody needs to worry about Kenny; the constable will be his problem alone.

His mind is empty during his single appointment of the day. He forgets to look at the client while sucking his cock, and he has no comments to make about how delicious and addictive the semen is. The customer leaves halfheartedly, but Levi can’t seem to care.

He cuts an excessive amount of carrots for supper, to which Titus scolds him for spacing out and confiscates the knife. His dinner isn’t even touched, his appetite completely demolished. His stomach is in too many knots to eat.

Erwin comes to bid the gentlemen good night, but furthermore to check on his self-appointed guard dog.

“Come speak with me, Levi. In the staircase.”

Levi rises wordlessly, his body mechanical and his eyes downcast. Erwin notices as his subordinate passes under him, sensing the unease boiling in Levi’s heart.

“You came back to the main floor a few hours before your appointment,” Erwin notes, planting his back against the wall.

Levi drops to a seat on the top step and tosses his gaze down the flight. “Yeah.”

“Did Kenny come by?”

“…Yeah.”

That darkens the air. Erwin inhales, prioritising focus and calculation above all else. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Levi promises wearily.

“You’re not as deceptive as you think you are. What did Kenny say to you?”

Levi crosses his arms on his knees. “He wants me to come with him.” He gives the truth, confiding in Erwin. “He said he’d pay for my living—even schooling. He wants me to do it for my mother.”

In a flash, Erwin’s selfishness grapples with his sense of respect. No, he wishes to yell. Kenny may not have you.

Yet, the mention of Levi’s mother halts him. He’s not allowed to determine how Kuchel’s memory should be honoured. The choice still lies with Levi.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, really. I didn’t know what to say.”

Erwin winces at the lack of Levi’s definitive no. Then, he curses himself for judging his subordinate’s reluctance.

“…I see.”

“You’re not deceptive, either. I know you want me to stay.”

“My opinion on the matter isn’t important.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Even as he chastises the Master, he cannot look at him. He only hugs himself and lowers his head to his knees. “Your opinion is important to me.”

“I would rather not influence you. This is your decision to make.”

Those words sting. Erwin’s sense of support is only fracturing Levi’s courage, tearing down the scaffolding his words usually construct.

“Please,” Levi breathes. “Influence me. I’m so tired of thinking about it. Of…of thinking.”

Erwin pities the ball at his feet. He’s meant to shield his gentlemen from the woes of life, but the one before him is now yearning for that shield and he cannot provide it. It would be immature to twist the perspective of his courtesan simply to fit his selfish desires.

“I’ll skew your decision,” Erwin warns. “I know I lack the restraint to encourage thorough consideration of either side. This denial is the best I can do.”

“Fuck, I don’t care.” Levi grips his own hair in fretful fists. “I really do not want to follow Kenny, so I’m asking you to convince me of that. Be biased. Skew my choice. I need something to tell me not to follow that asshole.”

With the tiniest implication that Levi’s already made his choice, Erwin comes alive. They agree: Levi should not go with Kenny. Unanimously, they both want Erwin to reassure Levi of that.

Erwin lowers himself to sit beside Levi and he’s quite touched when the black crop of hair instinctively tilts to rest on his shoulder. “Are you certain you’ve made your choice?”

“All I know is that I don’t want to go with him. If I end up choosing something I regret, I won’t blame you.”

That further soothes the Master. He’s itching to fulfil Levi’s request, prohibited only by the worry of what his hypnotism might suggest.

But if Levi has already made a choice of his own volition, then whatever Erwin does will not affect him. Erwin allows himself to believe that, greedily claiming ignorance.

“So, you want to stay with me?”

Levi’s shoulders hunch. “That’s right.”

“Come on, then.” Erwin puts a hand on Levi’s arm. “Come stay the night with me.”

Levi lifts his head and peers at Erwin. “You’re being vague again. Are you talking about using one of the playrooms?”

“No.” Erwin guides both of them to their feet, standing a few steps down from Levi. “I mean where I usually spend the night. Come home with me.”

Levi’s heart leaps, excited by the proposal. The Master’s home sounds like utter paradise in his head. A real place to live—not this House of crammed bunk beds and shared bathtubs. A proper, private home, suited for one to eat, bathe, sleep, and engage in every domestic activity that Levi has never experienced.

“Would you like that?” Erwin asks gently, tugging Levi out of his daydream.

Levi, a bit boyishly, nods with firm vigour.

“Good.” Erwin is pleased to see his partner so eager. “Go fetch the suit you wore yesterday and some fresh undergarments. Put your shoes on. I’ll be waiting for you in the parlour. Understood?”

Levi barely breathes out a, “Yeah,” before he’s darting up the staircase, his mind painted over with images of Erwin’s home.

A few minutes later, Levi’s tucking folded garments under his arm and pattering down the stairs, descending from the quarters to the dining hall. Before continuing, his housemates notice him.

“Where you goin’?” Jules calls.

Levi halts, his toe about to lower to the next step. Glancing back, he sees the faces of his colleagues and struggles to admit the truth.

He had sex with the Master, and they didn’t care. They made him the Master’s favourite. But going to the Master’s home is another hurdle, one that Levi assumes nobody here has experienced. Exchanging bodies for sex is normal here; playing out domestic intimacy is not. Leaving the Master’s House and going to Erwin’s home is a privilege reserved only for Levi, and the last thing he’d want to do is boast that.

“Downstairs,” he answers before hurrying out of sight.

Putting no thought into thinking about their reactions, Levi comes into the parlour and steps briskly towards Erwin. “I’m ready,” he announces, anxious to leave.

“Good boy.” Erwin takes the clothes from Levi and puts a guiding hand on his back. “So quick, too. Are you excited to go home?”

“Quiet,” Levi whispers sheepishly. “It’s just nice to get out every now and then.”

“Right.” Erwin permits that lie to linger. “I must apologise, though. I haven’t considered purchasing you a coat. It’s going to be quite bitter outside; will you be alright?”

“Just fine.” Levi doesn’t even detect a sliver of chill in the warmth of Erwin’s presence. “Let’s go.”

“Are you certain? I can lend you my coat until we get to the main street, at least.”

“I’ll be fine. I’d rather not draw suspicion.”

“…Alright. Tell me if you grow uncomfortable.”

Outside, the sky glimmers with pinpricks of light that attract Levi to gaze at them. Wind blows, sifting through the alleys and kissing exposed skin with winter’s chill. It’s quiet, almost eerily dead so late in the night. Every window has snuffed its lamps and the sky above is moonless, promising the escapees a cloak of darkness to travel under.

Their shoes crunch on the light layer of snow, leaving two sets of clearly different footprints trailing from the House. Light snowflakes fill the air around them, arriving to dust the streets with a new blanket before the sun rises. Levi curls his bare hands into fists and remains focused, hiding any discomfort from Erwin.

As the couple moves, both keep their head on a swivel and sense the environment around them with keen eyes trained to dodge enemies. Though fueled by different fears, they combine into the most attentive and protected pair to roam the streets.

Erwin follows a memorised path onto the main street, threading between two of many flickering street lamps. They glow wearily, their efforts wasted on the near-empty cobblestone. Passing underneath them, Erwin fights back the urge to keep a hand on Levi. Onlookers are unlikely, but just one witness to two men walking a little closer together than socially appropriate will raise eyebrows.

They skew into an avenue, another turn in the map Levi is scripting. Along a road just wide enough for a carriage, multi-storied buildings hide their fine architecture in darkness, their outfits of corbels and cornices faint to Levi’s eye. He can take note of the ornate porticos preceding tightly-locked doors, recognising how heavy, secure, and expensive each entrance must be. They’re crammed together, yet exquisite and inviting, like cigars lined up in a box.

When Erwin guides him to one, it clicks. Erwin lives in one of these luxurious homes. Levi ponders if he owns one floor, or all three.

“Let’s get inside.” Erwin checks the area a final time as he withdraws his key, slotting it into the keyhole. “Take your shoes off at the door.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.” Levi squeezes in as soon as the door is cracked open, ridiculously excited to see the space.

The vestibule is dim and small, an anticlimactic sight. Levi peels his shoes off while Erwin flicks on a brass sconce, flushing the dark out of the room.

The sight saps Levi of words. Warm lamplight reveals wallpaper patterned with repeating designs, backdropping an ornate entryway table littered with gleaming decor and trinkets. Levi holds back from picking up china vases and golden statuettes, disciplining himself by only looking. Though, he takes his time, and Erwin catches clear notice.

“It’s merely the entryway.” Erwin locks the door and pockets his key. “Come further in. It’s—oh.” Upon grasping Levi’s fingers, he flinches at how icily frigid they are. “Why didn’t you say anything, Levi? Come quick—let’s get you warmed up.”

“It’s—it’s fine.” Levi marvels at the carved timber archway he’s pulled through, only to be drawn to the larger living room he enters.

When Erwin illuminates the room, pure wonder occupies Levi’s mind. An enormous area rug is the nest for a plethora of seating options: plush couches invite ornate chairs into their family that faces a fireplace. The cast iron den is filled with chopped logs and bordered by dark, intricate marble, crafted to be the true centrepiece of the room. It’s crowned with a polished timber mantle that houses a mahogany clock, candelabras, and decorative plates, as if no square inch of the surface is allowed to remain empty.

“Sit.” Erwin guides Levi onto the tufted couch, fueled by fervent hospitality. While he leaves to retrieve a blanket, his guest runs his eyes over every detail of the cluttered space several times and drags a hand along the soft armrest.

His eyes flit to the wall, looking at the sizable paintings mounted every few feet. Detailed, gilded frames vary in which images they hold, ranging from paintings of flowers to city streets to dreary piers. There’s no consistent theme—rather, their only commonality being a lack of life. No family portraits or anonymous human figures. It must not interest Erwin to look at them.

“Do you like the paintings?” Erwin tucks a throw blanket firmly around Levi’s hips, insisting his hands stay underneath the cloth.

“They look expensive.”

“They are. That one of the hedge gardens was purchased at a silent auction a few months ago. Some chap from the noble family fought valiantly against me for it.”

“Yeah? Why’d you fight so hard in return?”

Erwin grins and idly fixes an askew lock of Levi’s hair. “It’s thrilling to strip the upper class of their pride.”

“Creep.”

“Am I?”

“Not to me.” Levi’s shoulders shrug up. “Anymore.”

“Good to hear.” Erwin leaves his side, crossing to the fireplace. “I’m going to start a fire, but it will take some time to warm up. Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine.” Levi focuses on the owner of this home, finding him just as grand as his living space. Even grander. His blond crop glows like a halo under the lamplight and his hands seem to sculpt the earth as he rearranges logs inside the fireplace.

Looking away lest Erwin catch him staring, he brings his eyes to the side table beside his armrest. An empty flower vase and a stack of books fight for room, both about to butt the other off the lace doily.

He takes the top book away from its siblings and runs a hand over the hard cover. It’s composed of stiffened crimson cloth and has golden letters and details stamped onto its face, just as elegant as the walls’ paintings. Levi runs a fingertip along the letters, finding their style different from Erwin’s or even Kenny’s handwriting.

He peels open the cover to see black ink on tanned paper—a series of lines he can’t decipher. Sighing, he gazes pointlessly at the incomprehensible script and curses his inadequate mind.

“Reading, now?” Erwin rises and slides a gold screen in front of the immature fire he’s started.

“Don’t be stupid,” Levi grumbles. “You know I can’t read.”

Finished with his duties, Erwin sits beside Levi and stretches an arm along the backrest. With another hand stroking Levi’s cloaked thigh, he nestles close to his guest and looks over his book selection.

“Elective Affinities. A fine read, though I’ve only started recently. It’s been challenging to get my hands on a translated copy.”

Levi returns to the cover, putting the given name to the string of characters. “Is that what that says?” he asks, pointing at the two groups of letters. “Elective,” he assumes of the first group, and, “Affinities,” of the second.

“That’s right. Though, I wouldn’t start off your reading education with words that advanced.”

“Maybe so.” Levi mouths the words a few more times, picking apart the pronunciation. Examining the evidence, he attempts to validate a new theory. “So that’s ‘eh’.”

He’s pointing firmly at the first letter. Erwin nods. “In this word, the letter ‘E’ is producing the ‘eh’ sound.”

Levi's eyes beam with victory. “Like the ‘eh’ in Erwin.”

For a moment, Erwin wonders if his father felt the same joy he’s experiencing in watching a student learn. “Right. That letter is also my first initial.”

Graced with new information, Levi traces the cherished letter. Its extremities have serifs that complicate its shape, but Levi focuses on the skeleton of the symbol. One vertical line, and three horizontal lines. One vertical, three horizontal. He traces it over and over, determined to memorise it.

Warmth bubbles in Erwin’s chest as he watches his initial be touched, the letter like an erogenous spot for him. The connection between Levi’s fingertip and that letter is so intimate, Erwin nearly grows jealous of the book. The book—the letter represents him right now, and he can’t decide if that object is an extension of him or an enemy.

“What about your second initial?” Levi shifts closer to his teacher, cherishing the impromptu lesson. “What does that look like?”

Erwin finds the answer at the end of the title, removing his hand from Levi’s thigh to run a thumb over the curvy letter. “Right here. It’s an ‘S’.”

“Ess.” Levi’s index moves more sensually to follow the curves, starting from the top, tracing to the bottom, and slithering right back up. “Ee. Ess.”

Two letters are burned into Levi’s mind, memorised so thoroughly it excites the blood in Erwin’s veins. Not even the family that christened him seemed to care for two measly letters as much as this pupil does. Erwin sees him mouth, “Ee, ess,” over and over, putting the first and last letters together as a pair. Merely letters, Erwin reminds himself, but somehow this treasure has transformed those letters into holy emblems.

The crackling fire backgrounds their intimacy, a captivated professor watching his obsessed student drink in a series of lines and curves. Levi appears more passionate to learn two letters than to bother learning any other symbol in the alphabet. Nobody has ever loved him this much.

Nobody ever will. Levi’s unbeatable in his devotion. Erwin, the fortunate soul, is blessed to have him.

“Look,” Erwin murmurs, holding Levi’s hand and bringing it to the second letter in the capitalised title. “This is your first initial. ‘L’.”

“Ell,” Levi repeats, comparing the two coupled initials. The interest of his own title briefly overrides his fixation on Erwin’s. “Hold on. This looks nothing like the first letter on my salary envelopes.”

“Oh, my.” Levi’s flattery reaches a new maximum, astonishing Erwin. “You analyse my writing that closely?”

“I just happen to notice,” Levi deflects with a pinched brow. “So you’d better not be screwing with me. Which one’s my first initial: this, or the letter on the envelope?”

“Both.” Erwin expects the scoff he hears. “But I tend to write in script. This book title uses Roman characters.”

“There’s—there’s different alphabets?” Suddenly, the task of taking on literacy mastery seems infinitely more daunting.

“Not necessarily. Simply different ways to write the same alphabet.”

“Fuck, that’s annoying.” Levi scrutinises the title, cursing the characters for being so complicated.

“Don’t fret about it. Later, we’ll start with the basics and begin learning how to piece words together.” Erwin gently squeezes Levi’s hand. “If you’d like to, anyway. Would you enjoy that?”

“Yeah,” Levi breathes. “As long as you’re not a hardass about it.”

Securing a hand on his guest’s shoulder, Erwin encourages the smaller man to snuggle against his frame. “I don’t believe I’ll need to be. You seem like a very diligent student.”

Levi’s silent, caressing the letters while he rests against Erwin. He touches the E, then the following L, then another E, followed by a string of unknown letters before reaching another E.

So many damn E’s. It’s as if the universe intends for Erwin’s presence to exist nearly everywhere.

There’s another E in the second word, right before the slinky S. Layering a hand over the book’s face, Levi hides all the letters save for the last two. ES.

For a brief moment, he allows himself to wonder how LS might look. He craves the ability to write, to script his own name and perhaps combine it with Erwin’s surname.

Damn childish, he scolds himself, and abandons the idea by setting the book aside. To soothe his running mind, he puts his head against Erwin’s chest and forces his eyelids close, hoping sleep will conquer his tangled thoughts.

Chapter Text

Heaven must be a tangible place, since Levi’s convinced he’s been transported to that celestial kingdom as he sits up in bed.

Filtered sunlight breathes on the floor and crawls across the thick comforter, drawn to the gold trim lining the cornices and gridding across the ceiling. The eloquent veins gleam with morning light, matching the brass bodies of lamps and shiny arms of a small chandelier. Swooping curtains have been drawn back to allow the rays entry, encouraging Levi to greet the new day in a bath of soft, pale light.

The air in the room is chilly, but the heat from two bodies beneath blankets turns the bed into a furnace. It’s cosy under the covers, beckoning its occupants to stay still and never leave. Levi’s in no hurry to move, anyway.

Beside him, the ruler of heaven sleeps. An outline of Erwin’s body curves the sheets, his upper half buried in one of many enormous pillows. Blond locks spread as far as they can go in the silk, free from the constraints of pomade. His profile is relaxed, his eyelids closed gently and his breathing slow and grumbling.

The image is so perfect, it hurts. To satiate his desire, Levi shuffles back down and situates close to Erwin, stroking his arm and thanking him for every blessing he has provided. Like a morning prayer, he silently worships his messiah.

When he shifts closer, he scolds his body for electing to stiffen his cock, cursing the erection that peeks out between his bare thighs and pokes Erwin’s hand. He’s awoken like this before, but the aphrodisiacal sight before him is doing nothing to quell the flow of blood.

He feels creepy for maintaining an erection while watching a man sleep. It’s violating, but he can’t help it. The scent of Erwin’s skin that emanates from his gigantic frame leaves Levi bewitched, torn between fantasising and executing self-discipline.

Attempting to readjust only rubs the rod against the sleeping man’s hand. “Fuckin’ hell,” Levi whispers, hating the rush of excitement rolling through his nerves. Against his better judgement, he grips Erwin’s arm and repeats the manoeuvre, depressing his tip against the enormous thigh beyond the enormous hand.

Glueing his face to Erwin’s bicep, he repeats reprimands in his head as he sneaks a hand down to his cock, deciding to please himself while using Erwin only as material instead of a sleeve. He won’t orgasm, he promises silently. At least, not in the clean bedsheets. Maybe he’ll finish in the washroom a bit later.

He rubs himself, keeping his breaths quieter than Erwin’s. The effort grows harder when his movement hastens by a hair, and his partner’s breathing loses its audible rumble.

Erwin’s damn near silent and Levi has to gnaw into his lower lip to smother any urge to whine. His grip on the still body has become tight, a painful oversight in techniques to keep the animal sleeping.

Erwin chuckles as his eyelids crack open. “Which one of us is the pervert?”

“Ah—” Levi stops, his gasp catching in his throat as paralysis stabs him. “Fuck—I just—”

“Come now.” Erwin pulls in his fanatic, sluggishly dragging hands along the fabric of Levi’s shirt—rather, of his own loaned shirt. “You must’ve known I would wake up eventually. You didn’t honestly think you’d be able to rub yourself senselessly without disturbing me, did you?”

Squirming, Levi rubs sweat-glazed thighs against Erwin’s and paws at his chest. “I—I happened to have an erection. That’s all.”

“And your solution is to touch yourself while I’m asleep?” Erwin makes sure his knee splits Levi’s bare thighs and presses against the exposed shaft. In just an oversized shirt, Levi’s body is quite free to toy with. “That’s cruel, Levi. I want to join in the fun, too.”

“H-hey,” Levi stutters, squeezing Erwin’s thigh. “Nh—”

“It can’t be helped. Will you let me help you take care of your situation?”

Levi swallows thickly, feeling a shudder run down his spine. “Okay. Yeah. Get—get on with it.”

“Pleased to hear it.” Sheets wrinkle and curve as Erwin curls into Levi, nuzzling his cheek against Levi’s neck. “I’ll make you feel good. Let’s start today off right.”

Lips pressing against his neck floods Levi’s body with life, pouring warmth into every muscle. His mouth opens, light exhales escaping, and he tilts his chin up to give Erwin easy access.

“Oh, precious.” Erwin rolls onto Levi’s body, fitting himself between legs that instinctively split for him. “You’re so sensitive here, aren’t you?”

Levi’s whispery whine in reaction to wet lips sucking on his neck is enough of an answer. He throws arms around Erwin’s naked back, clinging to his pleasure machine. “Mm—a little—just a little.”

“Listen to you,” Erwin exhales on the wet spot he’s left. “I could eat you up for hours.”

Levi’s head swims with pleasure as Erwin kisses and gropes his body, merely a ragdoll in his grasp. Crisp, still air pets his skin when the sheets shift back with Erwin, but his rushing veins take no notice.

“I just might,” Erwin proposes as he slides back to the bed’s foot, dragging hands down Levi’s legs until he reaches the ankles. “What better way could I spend my time besides doing this?”

“You—” Levi’s flipped onto his stomach, his face slapping against the pillow. “Mm. Fucking…”

“Beautiful,” Erwin praises of the small legs extruding from his large shirt, spreading them wide and kneeling between them. He rubs firm hands into Levi’s muscles and squeezes his thighs, his thumbs burrowing into the skin.

“Nh,” Levi grunts, hoisting himself onto his elbows. “Are—are you trying to tear my skin off?”

“I apologise.” Erwin moves up, gouging fingers into the cheeks of Levi’s ass. “I just love making you squirm.”

“A-ah!” Levi’s back arches as his ass is tugged up, manoeuvred by Erwin’s firm grip. “Th-this is—”

“Mm, your ass in the air like this is a beautiful sight. Such a perfect way to wake up.”

“Quit—ah, quit staring at it.” Bashful, Levi clings to his pillow and wriggles in Erwin’s hands, aflame with humiliated lust.

“Certainly. I’ll pleasure it instead.”

Levi’s eyes burst wide when a gust of breath hits his ass cheek, struck with shock for a split second before a wet, warm tongue laps a stripe up the entire crevice. “O-oh! Ah—hn—Erwin!”

“Yes?” Erwin keeps his feast’s ass spread wide as he plants light, passive kisses on it.

“Th-that’s…” A drop of panic spoils the buckets of pleasure Levi gleans from the motion; he cannot believe such delight can be evoked from something so filthy. “It’s…dirty.”

“I promise you, it isn’t.” Finding no actual reason to stop, Erwin spits a glob onto Levi’s entrance before bringing his lips to the ring.

“F-fuck—fuck! Oh!” Levi strangles his pillow fervently, overrun with the unexpected sensation. It’s so wet, so hot. Lips graze his balls and suck at his taint, Erwin’s mouth squelching against his skin. Lighting scatters down his thighs, turning his hardy knees to jelly. He can’t get enough of the feeling.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Merely the breath of Erwin’s words tantalises Levi.

Hiding his shameful face in the pillow, Levi barely gives a nod.

“That won’t do,” Erwin croons, laying a cheek against Levi’s ass. “You will tell me how good it feels, or I won’t keep going.”

Tensing, the bottom hoists his hips up to silently ask for more.

All the top gives is a thumb rubbing the fat of his ass. “Tell me.”

“Itfeelsgood,” Levi rushes, his toes stabbing into the sheets. He holds his breath when Erwin grants him one connection of lips to skin, but the excitement is for naught when no more stimulation comes. “Fuck—Erwin—please—”

“Please…?”

“Keep—keep going.” Levi’s ass is begging about as much as his mouth. “Please—it feels so good, Erwin. Please—I really want more—”

“That’s more like it.”

“—Hah! Yes!” Warmth scatters down Levi’s legs when Erwin’s tongue circles his rim, his dangling cock dripping precome. “Oh, f-fuck—ngh—it’s s-so good—”

“Good,” Erwin mumbles into his fat. “I love feeling you quake against me.”

Levi’s submerged in tremendous sensation, his legs twitching and flinching with every manipulation of his nerves. He whines into his pillows, gracing Erwin with a symphony of muffled, squeaky notes.

Erwin continues to feast, relishing the praise Levi’s lungs are giving him. Nothing satisfies him more than experiencing the euphoric joy he can provide to his angel. With his nose buried and his tongue active, he gorges himself on Levi merely to feel the boy squirm more.

“Hah!” Levi cries when a hand slinks under to cup his cock. Unaware that his pleasure could double, he’s absolutely dizzy when his shaft is pumped and his entrance eaten. “Fuck—Erwin—E-Erwin! Ngh!”

Erwin chuckles gleefully, running a tongue along his own fingers to lubricate them. “So precious.” He lifts himself and hooks an arm under Levi’s thigh. “I think we ought to show you what proper oral sex should feel like, hm?”

Light washes over Levi’s reddened face as he’s flipped over again, his head lolling deep in the pillow. He shoots hands into the sheets when Erwin’s finger slides inside him, and his head snaps back as his cock’s erected tip is met by Erwin’s lips.

He can only gasp shrilly as his cock disappears inside Erwin’s mouth, his mind too scrambled with lust. Fingered and sucked, Levi’s half-lidded eyes roll back in a surrender of control, giving all priority to his lower half. When Erwin braces a free hand against Levi’s abdomen, Levi claims the limb with ten desperate fingers and hugs it firmly against his chest.

“Erwin—fuck—already—” Levi’s nerves are swiftly shot to the extreme, promising an orgasm soon.

“You just can’t contain yourself, can you?” Erwin grins at the twitching cock that waits for its sleeve to return. “Very well. Enjoy yourself, and come for me.”

Levi knifes thumbs into Erwin’s palm, his body locking up as Erwin’s mouth pulls him to the peak. His legs coil around the blond head, hardly giving Erwin the mobility needed to work on his cock. Nevertheless, the expert perseveres and lets his frame be utilised as a brace while his head finishes its job as a sleeve.

“H-hn—nn—Er—nh—Erwin—” Levi quavers, purling out nothing coherent as his system burns with rushing delight. “F-fuck—fuck! Ah!”

Erwin shudders as warm fluid coats his tongue, Levi’s tip draining inside his mouth. Levi moans as his semen is sucked in and swallowed, his shaft twitching and raw. With a fuzzy head sunk into the pillow, he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling and heaves large breaths into his lungs.

“Lovely,” Erwin coos, kissing the exhausted tip. “What a fine way to start the morning.”

“Shit,” Levi breathes, dislodging one thumb nail from Erwin’s palm to throw a forearm over his eyes. “Oh, god.”

Erwin crumbles, resting his head against a small thigh as his arm remains outstretched in Levi’s grasp. “Louder than usual. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Mmhmm.” Levi practices tempoed inhales and exhales, climbing down from the saddle of adrenaline. His thumb in Erwin’s palm rubs flat, offering the pad instead of the nail. “Just…just give me a second, and I’ll—nh—I’ll pleasure you.”

“Hm?” Erwin glances up. “No, you won’t. Just relax.”

“That’s not fair—to you.” Levi goes to lift his torso, but Erwin’s firm arm pins him back down. “Let me. I shouldn’t have all the pleasure.”

“Do you think I didn’t enjoy what I just did? You don’t need to return the favour.”

“Still, you should orgasm too. Let me—”

“I already said no.” Erwin picks himself up, looming over his nobly defiant child. “I was right about you: selfless to a fault.”

A single eye peeks out from underneath a slender forearm. “Whatever. You’re in charge, Erwin.”

“That’s right. Now come on,” Erwin begins as he peels Levi’s frame off the sheets. “Let’s bathe.”

“Fine. You’d better brush your damn teeth while we’re at it.” At the very least, Levi makes sure to adequately complain as he’s guided to the washroom.

In a few minutes, Levi’s seated on the tub’s edge and watching the porcelain basin fill with gurgling water while Erwin frees the button of his shirt. This room is a vast improvement from the communal washroom at the House, fitted with only one tub and sink instead of several. Shelves and countertops hold washcloths and hygiene products, offering a variety for Levi to peruse. It’s tidy, but lived-in.

Erwin sheds his drawers—his only garment—and steps into the tub. “Perfect,” he comments while twisting off the faucet. “Come in. It’s warm.”

Levi flinches when his fingertip touches the water’s surface. “It—it’s fucking scalding.”

“Perhaps a bit warmer than the House.” Erwin, used to the temperature, leisurely leans back. “Take your time. Join me whenever you’re ready.”

Scoffing, Levi lifts a leg and pokes the water with his toe. “I’m going to boil alive,” he mutters as he shoves his calf under the surface.

“I haven’t perished yet.” Erwin opens arms to welcome in the tub’s second occupant. Levi settles between his thighs, using the bigger man as a backrest. “There we are. Not so bad.”

“Hmm.” Levi’s breached knee is already cherry red.

“Rest your head.” A bar of soap is retrieved from the tub’s edge. “I’ll scrub you down.”

“I can do it—”

“You already said I was in charge. Rest your head.”

Wrought with faux annoyance, Levi slumps back and allows the bar to be drawn along his chest. He hides his face against Erwin’s neck, doffing a layer of control and freeing his mind to wander.

This lifestyle is idyllic: privacy, wealth, and love. Swaddled in pleasure and embraced by the man he loves most of all. He has no worry about money or danger, freed from the demons of the streets.

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t need to sell himself for this splendour. He’s only here by the grace of the House—and Erwin’s immense attraction to him. Because he gave his body to Master Erwin, and to a multitude of other men, he’s allowed to exist in this paradise. Only sacrificing his dignity and stumbling across a stroke of luck has paid the price for this covetable scene.

He wishes to stop thinking about what it took to arrive here. His previous lifestyle cannot hold a candle to the comfort he’s enveloped in now, but the bridge between the two is tarnished by the greed of faceless clients groping at his body. No matter how much he has acclimated, an ember of pride reminds him that his profession is repulsive. He’s destroyed himself just for another chance at life.

He hates the clients, and he loves Erwin. Selfishly, he yearns for the latter without the cost of the former. Why, he asks the universe, can it not be just Erwin and Levi? Why must an army of pigs drool at the base of his ivory tower?

“Are you alright?”

Levi blinks out of his woeful nightmare, squinting at the rippling water. “Yeah, why?”

“You seemed a little out of your own head.” Erwin pauses. “And I elected to not mock you for it.”

“Shut up,” Levi grouses. “I’m fine.”

Erwin allows silence to reign as he washes his guest, dragging addicted hands down his back and watching frothy soap drip down the shimmering canvas. Levi is malleable, letting his body be adjusted this way and that while he retreats back into his mind and draws more comparisons between the life he wants and the life he has.

After the bath, Levi returns to his old clothes while Erwin plans a new, striking outfit for the day, donning neutral matching colours in a suit befitting absolute nobility. He takes a cravat from his wardrobe and moves over to an ornate floor mirror, using his reflection to fit the piece around his neck.

Levi follows behind, retrieving his waistcoat to put over his button-up. Donning it, he flanks Erwin and inspects their forms next to each other.

He sees himself, a small street cat with a downturned brow and a vexed fixation on a loose thread from his cuff. His hair is still damp, but his part cuts through his scalp with wet locks slumped on either side.

Beside him, Erwin takes up much more of the mirror’s pane, his colossal height accentuating Levi’s lack thereof. His proportional frame fits cleanly in his suit, his large, magnificent hands working expertly to feed his cravat into his waistcoat. He’s focused and calm, a pristine sight that Levi both admires and envies.

“Fucking tall,” he rebukes of his gigantic partner.

“Yes,” is Erwin’s neutral answer, omitting comment on his height or Levi’s. “Any reason for that observation?”

It’s all Levi can think to say to dispel his adoration of how perfect this moment is. Like a real couple, getting ready together before they go to work. Standing beside each other before a mirror, dressing casually and examining their appearances. Levi can’t put his finger on what about the domesticity he appreciates, but he knows it’s a dream come true.

“None.” Levi turns, burying his thoughts. He cannot indulge in this dream for too long; they’ll return to the House eventually and he’ll have to resume his erotic profession.

Downstairs, on the main floor of the home that Erwin truly owns all three floors of, Levi passes through the living space and into the kitchen. The dining area is nothing more than a small table against the street-facing window, two chairs stationed as company. Near it, a proper Victorian kitchen comes equipped with every appliance a homeowner could ask for.

“Take a seat.” Erwin issues one command before he disappears into a deep pantry. He emerges a second later with an armful of ingredients, already determining what breakfast will consist of. “Do you like crumpets, Levi?”

Slumping into a chair, Levi slings an arm over the backrest while watching his host lay out the raw ingredients. “Yeah. Those medallion shaped things, right?”

“Correct.”

“Sure, I like them. Do you have jam?”

“I do. I’ll make sure to show you the options.” Erwin sets a filled kettle on the stovetop. “I have choices of tea, too. What would you like?”

Levi’s distracted by counting the amount of containers, pots, and dishes Erwin has. So many possessions, all for him. “Anything’s fine.”

“I’ll have you try Assam. There’s a fantastic tea shop a few blocks away that receives international goods; I purchased from them recently.”

“Sure.” Levi sees Erwin flick on his stovetop to heat his kettle, utilising the appliances constructed for him in his kitchen. To own a home must be such a satiating feeling. Levi pictures himself with a privilege like that.

When, a few minutes later, a filled teacup is set before him, he idly traces a finger around its rim and marvels at its craftsmanship. Its saucer has a painted floral design in its centre, the cup with tiny flowers to match. Levi wonders if there’s an entire set that matches this cup.

He sips, basking in the action more than the taste. Never did he imagine he’d end up somewhere so safe like this: a real home, with walls to protect him and food to nourish him.

All the rooms filled with furniture leave plenty of crevices and surfaces to clean, but Levi wouldn’t mind. He’d leap at the chance to carry out his chores—his chairs and floors would remain absolutely spotless, he declares. He would have to buy and cook his own food, though that is far better than stealing it from merchants simply trying to get by.

Perhaps Erwin could do the cooking. Levi would be occupied with the laundry and cleaning, but he’d eventually put his broom down when his partner would insist that he ought to eat. They’d share a bountiful meal, chat about who’s coming for tea tomorrow, then wash dishes together before retiring in the bedroom. Love would be made, and they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

When Levi sets down the teacup, he finds his grip unusually tight. His white nailbeds are soon accompanied by a heavy lump in his throat, and he swiftly puts a fist to his lips before the symptoms progress.

He’s about to cry? That’s downright pathetic. Fantasies are normal—fantasies that bring one to the verge of tears are stupid and should be thrown out of the mind. Grow up, he screams at himself. Quit sobbing over mundane shit.

“Are you alright?”

Levi hates how Erwin caught notice. He forces a swallow down and clears his throat, switching off the daydream in his head. “Yes.” Shooting to his feet, he locks eyes onto the garden of ingredients. “I…I want to help make breakfast with you. Can I?”

“Of course.”

He decides to play out this pretend scene, ignoring how the joy will end soon and how the relationship is nonexistent. This home is not his; nor is Erwin. He is still homeless and unrequited.

They cook and eat together, Levi reminding himself to remain in the moment throughout. He refuses to think of what they have to return to until the plates are empty, the dishes are washed, and Erwin has relocated to the foyer to pick out an overcoat.

“What’s the time?” Levi asks.

Erwin threads his arms into his coat and takes up his gloves. “Just after nine.”

“Shit. We need to get to the House.”

“We are. There’s no hurry.”

“We’re late, Erwin. That’s not a good look—for me or you.”

“It’ll be alright,” Erwin says, though his tone is colourless and plain. He speaks without hesitation, but not with utmost confidence.

“Hurry up.” Levi unlocks the door and steps out, ignoring the biting chill of the wintry morning. “I don’t want to leave the men alone. Not when Kenny’s a threat.”

“Perhaps so.” Erwin steps out, his shoes crunching on the centimetre of snow. “I’m sorry, Levi. Would you like my gloves, at least? I can fetch a scarf—”

“That’s not important.” Resolute, Levi whips his head around to shoot Erwin with a glare. “We need to get back.”

“…Alright. Let’s get going.” By his own power, Erwin chooses to yield to Levi’s urgency instead of replicating it. He does not fear consequences the way Levi does—nothing can go wrong so long as his treasure remains beside him.

At the House, Erwin unlocks the front doors for him and his companion to enter. Levi shakes snowflakes off his locks as he hurries down the entrance hall, oddly loyal to punctuality. Kenny must be on his mind, Erwin assumes.

Upstairs, Levi finds his housemates gathered in the dining hall, murmuring halfhearted conversations over warmed bread and porridge.

“Hey, hey!” Jules greets, their attitude impossible to ruin. “G’morning! I’ll get you a bowl—”

“No need.” Levi sits beside them, conducting a headcount of the employees. Everyone’s here, and fine. Kenny hasn’t performed an early morning check-up on the House.

He shouldn’t be back for a week—he said as much—but Levi is cautious nonetheless.

“Why?” Kirk stirs his sludge, cocking his head at the late courtesan.

“I already ate.” Levi stays as vague as he can, afraid to explain that morning’s events. He wishes to sweep it under the rug.

“With Master?” Russell asks as he passes behind.

“…Yes.” He doesn’t want to speak, but he won’t lie to the men either.

“Hm.” Kirk feeds himself a blob of colourless porridge.

“What?” Levi tenses, fearing the eyes of his judges. This is worse than sex—Kirk’s dull reactions is absolutely confirming that time in Erwin’s home is worse than just fucking him.

“Nothing.” Kirk shrugs, tapping his spoon against his lip. “Um, impressive, I guess. It’s definitely a new peak.”

Fear for his housemates morphs into fear of them. “Is that a problem?” He means to deliver the words sharply, but his tone comes off as guiltily worried.

“Dunno,” is all Kirk says.

“It’s not.” Russell sits beside Kirk, like a guard supervising a tetchy prisoner. “The Master’s word is absolute.”

Though it ends the tension, Levi feels no assurance in that sentence. Russell provided it only to say they may not defy what the Master commands, but it does nothing to relieve Levi of blame. Levi is safe under Erwin’s word, yet bitter opinions will stir regardless.

Levi distances himself from the gentlemen throughout the day. He spends longer than intended in the playrooms, promising his clients he won’t charge extra for going overtime. They trust him and play along, mindless drones loyal to his words.

“I can’t hear you,” he gnarls to a squirming client, bearing more weight on the man’s squashed cock.

“I’m—I’m a dirty pig!” the client screams again, grasping at the armrests of the chair he was instructed to sit in.

“Damn straight.” Levi doesn’t let up, embedding the throbbing shaft in the client’s thigh. “Good for nothing but taking dick. At least you know you’re worthless, you piece of shit. Isn’t that right?”

“Th-that’s right.”

“That’s right, who?”

“That’s right, Sir!”

“Better,” the vicious Dominant dully praises.

“He-ey!” The door to the bedroom rattles with a few raps from Jules’ knuckles. “Is someone in there? I have a client coming soon—I gotta clean the place!”

Tsking, Levi glances at the clock to find he really has gone ten minutes over. He can only stall for so long before the room is needed by someone else.

“Wait, Jules,” Levi snaps at the door, staying in character. “I’m not done.” He takes the collar of the client’s shirt, pulling the grubby face close to his. “Listen, shithead. You and I aren’t finished. Next week, I expect this room to be booked at the exact same day and time. Is that clear?”

“Yes—that’s clear, Sir,” the man whimpers.

“Good. Until then, I don’t want you touching this pathetic prick of yours no matter what. You’re not to jack off once, much less feel yourself. I don’t care how fucking horny you get. If you’ve been obedient, I’ll consider letting you come with my help. You got that?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, I do.”

“Repeat your orders back to me.”

“I’ll book th-this room, same time next week. I won’t t-touch myself—won’t come—until you let me, Sir.”

“Good little pig.” Levi frees his victim and steps back, rubbing the sole of his shoe on the carpet. “Get your damn trousers on and scram. You’re not getting any affection from me until you’ve earned it.”

The client spits out a, “Yes, Sir,” as he stands and shakily pulls his slacks up, shoving his swollen cock back into his drawers while stumbling past his courtesan. He flings the door open, darts past Jules without a word, and disappears from sight.

Sighing, Levi drops the act and fishes out a handkerchief to wipe his hand. “Room’s empty,” he announces.

“Cool,” Jules marvels as they skip inside. “Man, you got him riled!”

“Yeah, too much.” He takes a damp terry cloth from Jules and begins wiping down the armrests. “Fucker forgot to leave a tip before he left. I shouldn’t have rushed him out like that.”

“There’s always next time.” Jules rearranges a candelabra, procuring matches for its dead wicks. “I’m sure he’ll be pretty generous when you jerk him off.”

“Shut up,” Levi grumbles, erasing the mental image.

They work in near-silence, Jules humming a tune while Levi scrubs down every inch of the only furniture used for his session.

Alone with his bunkmate, Levi comes to the realisation that Jules’ nature lacks the hesitation the other men embody. For the sake of predicting his own future and place within the House, Levi decides to broach the subject.

“I need honesty, Jules.” Levi folds up the cloth and sets it on a nearby dresser.

“About what?” As blithe as ever. Levi sometimes envies that energy.

“What you think of me going with Erwin—Master. With Master.”

Jules fixes a crooked candle, their eyes fixed on the flame. “I don’t mind. It’s not really my business!”

“It is your Master,” Levi counters. “And one of your housemates. I know what I saw this morning—the men are on edge. I have to know what somebody is thinking.”

“Levi, we already said we don’t care if you two screw each other.” Jules’ smile is almost flawless as they display it. “This House is freeing. You can do whatever you want.”

“This is more than just screwing. I went to his home—I stayed there. Hell, we were late this morning because his sorry ass took forever to get out the door.”

“Yeah,” Jules chuckles, a forced effort to paint over simmering disappointment. “You were late.”

“You’re not secretive.” Levi flanks his housemate, demanding answers with his glare. “Tell me what the problem is, Jules.”

“There’s really no problem.” Pushing the candelabra back, Jules keeps their eyes anywhere else but on Levi. “Like Russell said, the Master’s word is absolute.”

“Don’t dismiss it with that reasoning.” Levi holds down Jules’ hands before they can begin picking up burnt matchsticks. “The Master’s not here right now. Ignoring his word, what are you thinking about it?”

Jules’ smile dwindles. “It—it’s really no big deal. I’m just overthinking it—”

“No.” They’re thinking something to start with, so Levi knows he’s on to something. “Tell me.”

“Really—”

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”

“It’s nothing—”

“Jules.”

When they meet his eye, they go rigidly still. For this moment, Levi has reverted to the remorseless foe he had to be to survive on the streets. He holds a glare filled with assured power, the weight of which crushes his housemate’s resistance.

“Um,” Jules starts, hoping their interrogator will relax. “I…honestly don’t care if you go to his place. I’d want you two to be happy more than anything.”

“You didn’t get all shy to hide that from me. Keep going.”

Jules swallows. “I just—well, he was late today. Not by a lot—but still. It is a start—and if it gets worse—okay, not worse—it’s not bad—”

“Calm down and find your words,” Levi orders.

Chewing their lip, Jules subconsciously clings to Levi’s hand. “It’s silly, but I don’t want him to forget about us. He might not, but—but he might. The House has always been the Master’s life. I just…don’t know what he would do if something else was more important.”

The dread swirling in Jules’ heart transfers to Levi. “He would never forget about the gentlemen,” Levi promises immediately. “Even if he were that daft, I wouldn’t let him. I won’t let you guys suffer because your Master is an idiot.”

“I know,” Jules nearly whispers. “And I trust you. I know how much you care about us.” Their brow sinks and their eyelids squeeze shut. “But we—we just don’t know what’s going to happen. Even if it’s nothing bad, it’s still a little scary to see the Master change like this. He’s our foundation.”

There’s nothing Levi can say to soothe that. Jules has posited a fear of the unknown, and Levi can’t combat an enemy he doesn’t know. All he can do is watch the swirling storm approach. “I understand. He’s probably changing a little, but don’t forget that this House is still his life. He wouldn’t throw away everything he’s built.”

“You’re right,” Jules accepts. “He’s been with his men for years. I don’t think he’s going to give that up yet.”

“Not at all.” Levi scoops up the burnt sticks and takes the cloth. “Now stay focused, Jules. Make the Master proud by performing well for his clients. Got that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Have faith in him, Jules. He has faith in you.”

For days, worry swirls through the floors of the House like a poisonous mist. Levi and Erwin take steps back, both watching the courtesans more than each other. Levi knows what Jules thinks, and Erwin correctly suspects what everyone thinks. Between concern for his reputation and the ever-looming threat of Kenny, Levi walks through his days with cautious steps and glances thrown over his shoulder.

Erwin can work without worry—he’s an expert in compartmentalising. The Master fears nothing in his own House. His kingdom exempts him from blame and ostracization, so he does not worry about himself.

Thoughts of Levi nag at him, worsened by adjacent thoughts of Kenny. The image of Kenny returning seeds a pit in his stomach, but he knows that Levi will turn away the vermin and that will be the end of it. Once the storm passes, all will be as it was.

Chapter Text

On a brisk morning in late November, Erwin enters his House alone. He strips himself of a lengthy scarf and shuffles off his coat, leaving both on a rack before striding into his castle.

The main floor is still empty—the courtesans are likely finishing up breakfast. Erwin leaves his belongings in the office before deciding to head upstairs and bid his gentlemen good morning.

“Morning, Master!” Jules is the first to notice him, removing their face from the pastry roll they’ve buried it in.

“Oh my god,” Kirk chuckles at the sight of the lone Master. “Did you let him sleep in?”

Erwin doesn’t pick up the thread. “What’re you referring to?”

“Levi. Was he just too lazy to come to the House this morning? Or is he prepping for an appointment downstairs?”

The questions make no sense. With a blank mind, Erwin furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

Kirk, and others, stoop down to Erwin’s level of ignorance. “He’s with you, isn’t he? He must’ve gone to your home in the middle of the night.”

“No,” Erwin responds instantly, his own word like a punch to the gut. “He’s not with me. He’s—” Unmatched terror shoots into him, a choked gasp catching in his throat. Swallowing it down, he clenches his teeth to withhold the flood of anxiety that rushes into his mind. “He’s—he must…hm.” Out of words, Erwin abruptly turns on his heels.

“Wait—Master!” Kirk calls as Erwin marches upstairs, left in his wake.

Erwin hurries into the empty quarters, scanning every foot of the room. “Levi,” he calls to absolutely nobody.

“Levi?” he tries in the washroom, flinging the curtain aside only to repeat the outcome.

The opposite quarters are just as barren. With a thudding heart, Erwin grips the doorjamb and stares at the void, whipping up theory after theory to explain Levi’s disappearance. He can almost hear his blood rushing and his sweat forming and he curses his body for working itself into a panic. To soothe it, he keeps thinking, trying to simply manifest Levi back into existence.

Only after an eternity passes does he realise his army has followed behind, now crowded in the staircase and awaiting orders. Glancing back at them, he mechanically squares his shoulders and tears his clenched grip off the timber.

“Downstairs,” he rumbles, momentarily forgetting how to form sentences. “Has anyone gone downstairs yet?”

“Not this morning,” Russell reports, cautiously watching the Master’s reaction.

“Go look.” Erwin pointlessly shuts the door to the quarters, hoping to display some sense of calm. “Search the playrooms. Make sure he’s not just lingering elsewhere before we worry.”

Before he worries is the true version of that statement, but Erwin won’t admit it. The gentlemen care for Levi, absolutely, but he can’t imagine any of them are about to buckle from terror.

The courtesans flush out of the staircase, Russell lingering behind. “Are you okay?” he checks.

“Just fine.” Erwin’s back is so straight it hurts, and his feet are placed with oddly careful precision as he glides across the floor and begins descending. “I’ll be in my office. Oversee the men; alert me if anything is discovered.”

Alone at his desk, he tightly clasps his fingers until his nailbeds are white. Staring at the mahogany, he transforms into a machine that meticulously sorts through memories and theories.

Levi was in the House last night, serving dinner and scolding Earl for spilling a drink. Before that, he had a client at midday. Between then, he was either in the lounge or upstairs—Erwin can’t be sure. He didn’t watch Levi that closely.

But Levi was definitely with the courtesans when Erwin left. Kirk’s middle of the night remark suggests that Levi went to bed with them, too.

Erwin rewinds farther. Levi had come to his home a while ago. Before that, the constables had come. Farther back, Beast was thrown out. Beast came to the Magnolia House and requested Levi for his first appointment. Levi joined the House.

The memories offer no aide. Erwin pulls suspects out of his recollections, but dismisses them under the evidence of no break-in. Nobody kidnapped Levi.

Nobody would succeed, anyway. The street cat is too wary to fall for something like that.

Thus, Levi left of his own volition. He went back to the streets, or with Beast, or with the constables, or to Erwin’s home.

Erwin scratches out the entire list he just scripted. None of those choices make sense. He came to the House to leave the streets. He’s always hated Beast; he wouldn’t do something stupid like elope with him. He already said he didn’t want to go with Kenny, and he’s certainly not with Erwin now.

Erwin checks his appointment book and finds plenty of slots filled in Levi’s upcoming schedule. He offered no sort of resignation, instead vanishing before anyone could ask questions. His clients will be disappointed if their courtesan never shows up, but that is the least of Erwin’s concerns.

He emerges from his office a few minutes later, his expression neutral. He shows not a hint of anxiety, no matter how much it knots his stomach. Gathering his courtesans, he tugs them out of their useless searching and situates them in the lounge.

“If there was anything Levi said,” Erwin begins, playing the role of detective. “I need to know. No matter how insignificant it might seem.”

Most men shrug. None can recall anything out of the ordinary. Levi was aloof, bitter, and withdrawn—exactly the same as always.

Erwin is observant, though, and he knows his men. In particular, he sees the one that’s trying to disappear behind Titus’ bicep.

“Jules.”

“Um, Master?”

“Did he say something to you?”

“Not—not really. Nothing important.”

“Tell me what he said.”

Jules swallows, their eyes meek. “I…I really don’t think it had anything to do—”

“My patience is already worn thin, Jules. Don’t make me ask again.”

Indeed, the Master is back to functioning at maximum power, wielding his heavy hand of discipline against his servile employees. He can punish them if he wants—that has always been within his ability in this House. Without the living exception to his authority, he has no safeguard to curb his dominance.

“A week ago,” Jules starts, their body shrivelled. “I was worried about…um, you. A-and him. But he told me that you wouldn’t forget about us, and that he wouldn’t let you forget about the House.”

Erwin doesn’t have time to pick apart the meat of their conversation. He can only extract clues surrounding Levi’s whereabouts for now. “What else?”

“That was mostly it. He was just reassuring me that he wouldn’t let himself become a higher priority than the House.” Jules ducks their head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d be much help.”

“That’s alright.” Erwin would console his employee more, but his strategizing is moving faster than his sympathy. If Levi’s so stubborn about keeping Erwin in line, he wouldn’t vanish so abruptly. He would know that his absence would rattle the House.

Wouldn’t he?

“Gentlemen.” Erwin has priorities to balance, the main one of which being a grasp on his House and its employees. “Stay focused and tend to your clients today. I’ll handle Levi’s appointments if he doesn’t return before them. We need to continue running this House despite the conundrum.”

“Yeah, sure. He’ll turn up,” Kirk promises, or at least hopes.

“Yes, I’m sure he will.”

Rising, Kirk keeps his eyes away from his Master as he saunters out of the room. “He’d better. This House might collapse if its owner is stressed out.”

Erwin fails to think of any retorts for that comment. The House wouldn’t fail, he thinks, but there’s already a chip on his shoulder as his confidence stumbles. Things aren’t going his way for once, and it’s gnawing at him.

The star courtesan hasn’t returned by the time his first client arrives at one in the afternoon. Erwin watches the oblivious aristocrat slink into a playroom and, in pursuit of a useless hope, decides to follow him.

“Ah, Master.” The client isn’t expecting the boss, but he doesn’t flinch when confronted. “Where’s my whore?”

“He won’t be coming in today.”

The client drops into an armchair, his mood soured. “What, is the poor boy sick?”

“Something like that.” Erwin wouldn’t dare profess his House’s failure to keep its employee secure. “I’ll be sure to repay the money. If you’d like, one of my other gentlemen would be happy to serve you for a discounted price.”

“Just my damned luck.” The client heavily rolls his eyes, exaggeratedly conveying his grief. “I don’t like your other men. They’re pathetic. They don’t have the presence that Levi does.”

Erwin’s only too keenly aware of that. “It can’t be helped. I’ve given you your options.”

Those irritated eyes climb up Erwin’s frame, examining the mighty Master and his significant aura. “Alright, fine. I’ll book you.”

Erwin goes still. He’s had enough unexpected events slap him today—this client’s aggravating request is pushing him to the brink.

“You may not do that. I’m not for sale here.”

“Why, is there something wrong with having sex with me? You’re sinful just like the rest of us—what’s one more body to you?”

“I run the House, not serve in it. Select another courtesan or dismiss yourself.”

The aristocrat grins, scratching the stubble of his beard. “You’re just too proper to be fucked, aren’t you?”

The teasing, vicious words burn in Erwin’s ear. “Enough. Your disrespect will earn you permanent removal from my House if you continue.”

“Don’t be so hurt. I just thought it’s only fair that you make up for the fickle whore that’s your property.”

“Truly,” Erwin rasps, “is this derision only for me? Or do you treat all my men with such cruelty?”

“Well, not all,” the client responds neutrally. “Because I only book Levi. And he takes it with far less complaints. Hell, he must be more qualified than you!”

Erwin’s had enough. “Come to my office and take your refund, or leave the House. I’m in no mood to handle your disrespect.”

He leaves before the client can keep prodding, his mind far removed from professionality. Facing such insolence from a client firsthand alerts him of what possibly slips under his gaze. He hasn’t the faintest idea what goes on inside the rooms during these appointments, but he’s been made aware that clients will be harsh, and courtesans will take it.

He knows the risk of his business—Beast was the latest and clearest example of a worst case scenario. To think that lesser evils are free to terrorise his men with none the wiser worries him, especially when it comes to Levi.

The soldier will stomach almost anything without spilling a word of complaint. What else, Erwin wonders. What else has Levi silently endured?

The day ends after hours of worry and an eerily silent supper. Erwin’s men promise to maintain hope, to understand that it has only been one day and that anything is possible. Maybe he’ll return tomorrow and explain why he had vanished.

Awake in bed after a restless night, Erwin drags a hand over the empty space beside him in bed. He wonders and wonders, crafting dozens of theories about where Levi could possibly be right now.

The most promising daydream is that Levi is at the House, already awake and watching over his housemates. He came back, and now waits for Erwin to come greet him.

This fantasy motivates Erwin to climb out of bed, to dress and eat, to hurriedly travel to the House with a confident gait and hopeful eyes.

Russell waits in the foyer, his posture small and his expression grim.

“Russell.” Erwin’s utterance is loaded with hope.

“He still isn’t here.”

Erwin freezes in place. Of course he isn’t; it was childish to assume he’d just reappear as swiftly as he departed.

When his daydreams fade, no theories come to take their stead. His tactful mind is blank, save for a list of guesses he’s already discredited. Levi wanted the House, so why would he leave? He would stay in the place, and around the person, that he wants.

“Oh,” Erwin breathes, hearing the foolishness of that declaration.

Levi is selfless to a fault—he’d never make his wants a priority. There was never a concrete answer to the if of Levi’s loyalty to the House. Erwin is an arrogant idiot for thinking it impossible for Levi to choose something less preferable than the House. If he had to suffer for the greater good, he’d toss his appreciation of the sanctuary aside.

The list of suspects is illuminated again. The streets. Beast. Kenny. All of those, Levi does not want, but that is no longer grounds for eliminating them.

He has no reason to return to the streets, so he wouldn’t go there. He wouldn’t go with Beast, either, for the same lack of motive. He didn’t want to go with Kenny—

It can’t be. Erwin’s eyes go wide as he hones in on the most damning piece of evidence. Levi said he didn’t want to. He said he didn’t want to, but he never said he wouldn’t.

Just because he doesn’t want it, doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. His selflessness is his vice.

Betrayal cuts a wicked gash in Erwin’s heart. To realise he’s chosen Kenny is wounding enough, but to think that he lied to Erwin before doing so hurts even more. He danced around the truth with the same manipulation Erwin excels in, forgoing his blunt nature in order to hide his intentions.

Erwin wonders what he has neglected regarding Levi. He gave the boy everything—everything he possibly could. All Kenny carries is the spirit of Kuchel, and that alone must be enough to pull Levi back to his roots.

He could have said that. Erwin might not have liked that outcome, but he wouldn’t fight Levi’s wishes. Had he just been told, his heart wouldn’t have crumbled as it has now.

“Russell,” he calls, and the courtesan is instantly summoned. “You and Titus are in charge today. Cancel Levi’s appointments and leave payments in my office.”

“Where are you going?”

“To check the city. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Erwin gives the space around him his blessing, praying for the safety of his House. “If Levi turns up while I’m out, send him to wait in my office.”

“Understood, Master. Best of luck.”

Back in the streets, Erwin tightens his scarf and hails a carriage, removing himself from the underbelly of the city where his House is established. He directs the driver to uptown, over where the refined neighbourhoods and businesses thrive.

He’s left in front of the city’s massive constabulary station, tiny before the oppressing building riddled with morality. Out of his element, he takes firm steps to the front door and allows himself inside.

Men in uniform wander the space, carrying crates or books or convicts. Erwin exists as an impostor in this space, disguising himself in fine, traditional clothing to reveal nothing of his sins. Infiltrating the enemy territory, he squares his shoulders and searches for his target.

“Erwin.” Nile stops in his tracks when he recognises the last person that should ever enter the police station. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“Nile,” Erwin greets as the constable comes upon him. “You—”

“Are you mad?” the constable gnarls, standing close and keeping his voice hushed. “Have you come to turn yourself in?”

“No, Nile.” Erwin’s tone is level and unsuspicious, veering away from drawing attention. “You know I’m the last sinner that would ever repent.”

“Yeah, I hope that’s still true.” Nile ducks his head, ashamed to be in the presence of an immoral soul. “I am not your ally, but I don’t want to lose my badge if your bribery gets uncovered. Keep that business of yours tucked away.”

“I shall. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Why, then? I hope you’re not expecting any favours.”

“Not necessarily. I just need to speak with Kenny.”

“Kenny?” Nile rubs his nose and scatters his eyes around the space. “Why? Is he one of your kind?”

“He’s not,” Erwin declares with mighty certainty. Even if that vermin unexpectedly had the same tastes, Erwin refutes the notion of considering him a part of his community. “This has nothing to do with my profession.”

“Then what?”

“It’s private. Is he at the station?”

“Private?”

“Are you really trying to involve yourself in my personal affairs?” Erwin challenges. “Truly, Nile, it’s nothing to do with the House, or the constabulary. It’s only a matter between Kenny and myself. Where is he?”

“Watch your tone,” Nile grumbles, though his voice cowers. “He’s in the back right now. Doing his job.”

“I’ll wait for him.”

“You might be waiting a while.”

“I don’t mind.” There’s nothing more important for Erwin to address right now. His sole priority is his angel’s captor. “If you want me out of your station faster, I’d suggest you go fetch him.”

“I’ll have you removed first, Erwin.”

“No need.” Unshaken, Erwin moves to a hard bench and patiently waits, withdrawing his temper and idly watching the room’s activity. He’s successfully issued a threat while remaining passive enough to avoid retaliation.

Nile, operating according to Erwin’s prediction, scoffs before trudging away, vanishing down a hallway.

He’s off to alert the MP, no doubt. Erwin’s known that uptight prude and his behaviour for years.

After several minutes of spectating hungover fools complain to the policemen dragging them out of the cells, Erwin’s wish is granted. Kenny emerges from a hallway, carding fingers through his greased hair and sighing in response to whatever situation he just left behind. He warily scrutinises each passing face, stopping only when he sees his blond rival swiftly approaching him.

“Kenny.” Erwin reminds himself, over and over, to stay calm. He cannot let this vermin agitate him.

“G’day.” Kenny hands off a crumpled folder to a passing officer before coming upon Erwin. “Here to seek repentance? The church’s another block down.”

“No.” Erwin’s already irritated by the impudent question. “You know why I’m here, Kenny.”

“I do?” Kenny’s faux ignorance is an act he’s having fun playing, a way to taunt his nephew’s frantic Master. “Strange. I don’t find myself in the habit of summoning whore owners. I find them pretty despicable after my sister died under their care.”

Erwin detaches himself from the memory that he has no correlation to. Kenny’s grief is not his fault. “Drop the facade, Kenny. I can’t disguise my question even if I wanted to: What have you done with Levi?”

Kenny tsks. “I haven’t done anything with him.”

“Don’t lie to me—”

“First off, peacock,” Kenny snaps, his face brutally close to Erwin’s. “You—and your kind especially—do not speak to an MP that way. You need to learn to tread carefully. Second, I’m not lying. I haven’t done anything with him. I can’t do anything to him—he makes his own choices. You ought to know that as his owner.”

“Excuse my lack of clarity.” Erwin keeps his voice to a low rumble, though makes no adjustments to the anger simmering in his words. “Where is Levi?”

“It’s not really your business, is it?” Kenny mocks.

“I’m his employer. I’m entitled to know where my employee has gone.”

“You run an illegitimate business—it’s not even registered in the directory. You can pretend to follow rules of labour, but they hold no weight in the goddamn real world.”

Erwin’s reached a dead end in that tangent. He can’t make demands based on pretend rules. With no legal justification supporting him, he must find his weapons elsewhere.

“He’s not my kindred, but he still sleeps under my roof and gives back to the family he’s a part of. I deserve to know where one of my family members has gone.”

Kenny glares, his brow sinking. Tonguing his canine, he flexes his fingers and plots where first to strike. “Where the fuck,” he hisses, creeping an inch closer, “do you get off spewing that shit? Family?”

Erwin remains steadfast. An MP wouldn’t strike an innocent civilian, and this station is full of watchful constables ready to stop a fight before it escalates. He has nothing to fear so long as he stays passive.

“A fascinating concept,” Erwin breathes. “One that I believe can surpass biology. His housemates offer a greater sense of family than his estranged uncle, I’ve noticed.”

“Real fuckin’ sly, peacock. I’ve had enough of this haughty shit.”

Erwin flinches when his wrist is snatched, astonished by Kenny’s audacity. Surely, an officer will catch notice—

“Fuck!” Kenny cries out as Erwin’s manipulated hand slams into his cheek, his head snapped to the side and his horribly clumsy body stumbling backward. “You—you struck me. Damn cur!”

“What?” Erwin stands dumbly, glancing at his freed, limp hand. “I did no such thing.”

“Do you know who I am, sir?” Kenny stabilises himself and wipes his lip of imaginary blood. “I hail from the Metropolitan Police. Do you understand the severity of offending me?”

Erwin catches notice of the ploy—a clear attempt to stage Erwin as an unruly civilian harassing an officer. “Unbelievable,” he utters. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

Nevertheless, policemen are staring, some approaching. The station has come to a grinding halt as vigilant eagles circle Erwin and his pretend victim, all ready to pounce on the wrongdoer. Erwin sees them near and instinctually steps back.

“I’ve done nothing—”

“Confine him,” Kenny orders, controlling the station with his words. The power of an MP is immense, commanding the entire police force under the fear of penalty for insubordination.

Erwin’s mind is kickstarted into panicked rationalisation when his arm is grabbed, racing to find a loophole. “On what basis?”

“Violation of statute twenty-five of the Offences against the Person Act.” To Erwin’s dismay, Kenny is remarkably well-versed in the laws he previously seemed quite unacquainted with. “An assault upon a peace officer is already grounds for punishment, but you’ve chosen to assault a member of the Metropolitan Police in a police station. Just how dumb are you?”

“I—” Erwin tugs at the policeman taking hold of him. He looks up at the man, then at the small army of lawmen crowding the space.

This is an image he has only seen in his nightmares, wherein his sins were uncovered and the law had come to smite him down. He lives as a criminal and fears those above, knowing his only protection is through bribery of a crooked colleague. His failure to maintain that seems so likely that it might as well be inevitable, and now he sees his nightmare come to life and take him in its jaws.

He’s being escorted down a hall before he knows it, led by brainwashed constables that loyally obey the MP. Fighting would only cement his guilt; he must match their pace and follow. There’s nothing else to do.

He’s left in a cell somewhere deep in the station, condemned for a sin he didn’t commit. The sodomite has finally been arrested, though not for his immorality.

His mind is empty as he watches the officers leave, thrust into a new predicament yet out of ideas. He’s locked up; there’s no easy way to slip right out of the station.

Slumping onto a wooden bench, he drops his elbows onto his knees and gazes at the floor. He didn’t intend to end up here—he just wanted Levi back. His mere desire for Levi has resulted in his sudden arrest, something he could have never predicted.

He cannot comprehend why that craving led to this outcome. Why is it so wrong for him to worry for another human being? That is not a crime. Sodomy aside, his care for another person is not legally wrong. He anticipates arrest for his sexual immorality, but he’s offended to find he’s been put behind bars for merely caring about someone.

There’s nothing illegal about caring for Levi. He’s wired to presume otherwise, but the pure contradiction of his situation challenges that belief. He can’t—and shouldn’t—be arrested for fostering an abstract feeling that has no bearing on society. He should be allowed to feel whatever the hell he wants without the law scrutinising him.

It’s not their business. Not the constables, not society’s, not the powers above. It’s his heart and mind, both entirely under his control. He can think and feel whatever he’d like to, just as freely as Levi does and always has.

Even as he sits persecuted by society, he loses fear of the world surrounding him. Society is daft enough to arrest a concerned man for being worried; its opinion on any other matter is rendered worthless. He wonders why he ever feared a world that can’t respect a connection between two human beings, why those connections are tainted simply because either human is the same sex. He can’t find a proper justification for the hatred, just like Levi never could.

Erwin scolds himself for giving the world more credence than it ever deserved. It knows nothing of his devotion; it has no right to interfere anymore.

“Hey.” Kenny slinks into the corridor, interrupting his thoughts. He dismisses the lone watchman before coming to Erwin’s cell.

“Riveting performance,” Erwin deadpans, peering from the depths of his cell. “I didn’t realise you were such a thespian.”

Kenny pins elbows on the horizontal cross-sections of the bars, clasping his hand on Erwin’s side of the wall. “Keep up those snide remarks, and I’d be happy to put on another show and have you sent to prison to await trial. I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut if you wanna avoid that.”

Erwin feels safe with the iron wall separating him from the villain. The distance gives him strength. “I suppose I can’t complain too much. Your crooked ways protect my business.”

“Your whorehouse,” Kenny corrects. “And you ought to be kissing my boots for that mercy. I can report your filthy brothel whenever I fuckin’ want. You’re just lucky I haven’t yet.”

“Because you know you can’t.” Rising, Erwin regains his height and treads carefully towards his opponent. When words reign, Erwin will be the victor. He’s grateful for this battle of wits that almost guarantees him success. “Reporting my House means incriminating yourself as an esteemed officer that accepted a bribery. You took money from my hands—my gentlemen can testify to that.”

“Before they’re all sent to prison, absolutely.” Kenny doesn’t even blink, as undeterred as Erwin. “I’m sure the chief officers would pardon me since I revealed such a nasty business to them.”

“All?” Erwin picks up on a key word. “All my gentlemen? That includes Levi. You’d send your own nephew to prison merely to strike back at me?”

“He wouldn’t go to prison, dumbass.”

“He would. He’d burn with the rest of us—he’s just as guilty. If the House goes down, he’d come with it.”

“No,” Kenny snaps. “As a matter of fact, right now he’s the only one of you dogs that wouldn’t suffer. He’s far from that shithole and under the care of a policeman. For him to burn, you’d have to actively indict him. That means name him, state his crime, and tell the courts that he’s guilty and deserves punishment. Would you do that, Erwin? Could you actually do that to the runt?”

Erwin stands still, holding his breath. The image Kenny planted pains him, burning into his mind and aching his heart. Willingly turning over his favourite courtesan, his angel, sounds like hell brought to life. There’s no way he would be psychologically capable of dragging Levi down with him.

“Answer me, Erwin.”

Swallowing, Erwin keeps staring. He searches for a witty retort, even trying to put a false confirmation on his tongue, but nothing comes out. He can’t even pretend to suggest something so vile.

“Fuck,” Kenny spits, jerking back from the bars. “You really are in love with him. That’s so fuckin’ disgusting.”

Erwin can’t protest, still too shy of his disposition.

Grumbling, Kenny whips around and saunters to the door. “Enjoy your living quarters, peacock. I’ll come back when I get bored.”

“Wait.” Erwin can’t have Kenny leave yet. “You can’t strand me here. I have the House—my gentlemen—”

“They’re all adults—I hope. They can look after themselves.”

“You don’t understand. I have to go back to them—”

The door slamming behind Kenny is his answer. Isolated, Erwin takes hold of the iron bars and yearns to rip them apart. Even if Levi’s absence wasn’t a glaring issue, he still has other souls to take care of. They’ll struggle if he doesn’t return to them.

The bars don’t budge. He’s truly out of options, no matter how much his need to escape festers. The world will continue spinning without him, and he’s caged with nothing but his thoughts for company.

Chapter Text

The window Levi peers out of is smeared with grease on one side of the pane and frosted with the breath of winter on the other. It renders the glass nearly opaque, hindering Levi’s view of the street.

He’s itching to clean it, along with the other windows—and the countertops, and the floors, and perhaps the walls too—but he’s been told not to touch anything in the space. Even if he knew where supplies were, he’d likely be prohibited from using them.

This shouldn’t be his permanent residence, so he tells himself to ignore the filth for now. With a sour mood and an ache in his temples, he comes back to the table holding the paperwork he’s been neglecting.

Dropping into a rickety seat, he picks up one of several papers and looks it over. A few strings of incomprehensible text, then many blank lines underneath it. Kenny had instructed him to complete it, but he can’t make a lick of progress when he can’t even read the instructions.

He picks up a propelling pencil, thinking of how he saw Erwin hold a quill and attempting to replicate that grip. Setting it to paper, he watches a grey line form when he swipes the tip across the sheet.

It’s a mundane action which holds a great deal of meaning for the street cat that has never known mundane. Discovering the same joy he felt bathing in Erwin’s home, he sweeps the utensil a few more times and watches faint curves form. He’s using a pencil—a pencil! He has more experience with wicked knives than commonplace tools like this. It’s pleasing to play out an ordinary task, a performance that teases more splendours of domestic, untroubled life.

He wants to try more. He shifts his fist up and traces the tip along the stilted letters, though his graphite pencil leaves no impression on the black ink he scratches on. None of the characters are recognisable anyway; he’d rather not practise letters he can’t even interpret.

Instead, he returns to the morsels of knowledge he does hold. Travelling to the blank lines, Levi begins scripting the first letter he’s learned. One vertical, three horizontal.

His brow lifts at the sight of his crafted letter. It’s pathetic compared to the book’s title, but it’s his. He made that letter with his own hand. Erwin’s initial in his handwriting. The creation excites him.

Desperate to give the letter a companion, Levi holds the paper down firmly and paints the curvy second initial. It comes out a bit crooked, with the upper half awkwardly smaller than the bottom half, but it sits nicely beside the E and clings to the thin line Levi used as a base. He traces the letter over and over, thickening its body.

“Fuckin’ hell,” his uncle grumbles as he swings the door open, though the dramatization elicits no reaction in Levi. “This damn job’ll drive me into an early grave.”

Levi ignores him, switching back to make the first initial as thick as the second. He likes to look at his handwriting more than Kenny’s scowling face.

“You’re awfully glum. I gave you tea and scones before I left, didn’t I?”

Levi’s eyes slide to the kitchenette’s sink, where the dishes have already been dumped and abandoned. The tea was cold and the pastries hard—he had no interest in either.

He keeps drawing.

“I spoke with the chief, by the way. He said, if you’re promising enough, he’ll overlook your height so long as you meet the other requirements.”

Kenny’s fighting to enlist him in a position he never expressed interest in. The suggestion was made last night, and Levi’s lack of response must’ve implied to Kenny that he was leaping for joy at the thought of working underneath his uncle as a police officer.

“You might not be done growing, anyways. How old are you? Seventeen? Did Kuchel die giving birth to you?”

“No,” Levi snaps, his pencil halting. “I’m twenty-four.”

“Christ.” Kenny looks down on his unsatisfactory nephew with a contemptuous scowl. “At least you’re old enough for the force. We’ll keep your record wiped, and you’re in decent shape. What about your literacy? Did you get your work done?”

Furrowing his brow, Levi scratches a harsh line down the E’s spine, about to rip the paper.

“Let me see.” Kenny withdraws a different paper, and the air grows noticeably heavier when he sees it entirely blank and untouched. “Aw, hell, Levi. You can’t do the one thing I told you to do?”

Levi barely throws his shoulders up in a shrug.

“This isn’t even hard. It’s stuff I picked up from the primary school—should’ve taken you less than five minutes. What’s the damn problem?”

He can’t keep his impediment from Kenny forever. He’ll just be hounded for never getting shit done.

“I can’t read, Kenny.” At least his voice doesn’t waver. He won’t fill the role of a timid child, even in the presence of someone so treacherous.

The paper crunches in Kenny’s twisting grip. “You’re fuckin’ kidding. You’re not even literate?”

“No.”

“What a goddamn pain.” Kenny rubs his forehead, poorly equipped to handle his stunted pupil. “Couldn’t Kuchel have taught you something?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Don’t give me that lip.” Kenny slinks to the other side of Levi, where his right hand covers his tiny masterpiece. “What’ve you written?”

Levi’s fist turns to stone, anchored to its spot on the page. Kenny takes his wrist nonchalantly, and—in a brief yet startling battle comparing the nephew’s strength to the uncle’s—peels his hand away from the letters.

Levi can only tsk in defeat, hiding the fright felt from witnessing someone physically outrank him. He doesn’t know whether to worry over that fact or Kenny’s eventual reaction.

“Come on,” Kenny groans. “Is that all that fucker taught you? Two letters? His letters?”

Levi’s silent, only ripping his hand out of Kenny’s yielding grasp. He tosses the pencil aside and crosses his arms.

“If you wanna pout, go do it in the bedroom. The other chaps will come up soon and I don’t need you to ruin the mood.”

“I’m going to book an inn instead. I don’t want to stay here.”

“With what money?”

Levi shuts up. He brought his accumulated salary when he snuck out, along with his toiletries and whatever clothes he does own, but Kenny never rifled through his belongings. He doesn’t know the boundaries of the cage he’s in, and he’s hesitant to divulge whether he has cash on him.

“The brothel paid you, right? Where’s your money?”

Levi had found a slit in the mattress he was assigned, one secret enough to tuck his wallet into. He hopes Kenny isn’t perceptive enough to uncover it.

“I left it behind at the House.”

Kenny hears that, another bout of frustration surging through him. At a complete loss and resigning himself to permanent disappointment, he only sighs. “Go to the bedroom. I don’t want you around when the others come up.”

Levi obeys solely to distance himself from the festering thunderstorm. He leaves behind the mess of papers and strides into the hallway, not a word of farewell uttered.

He has to hold his breath when a group of stuffy men ascend from the floor below and pass by him, their sweaty stench almost threatening to cause an infection should Levi inhale it. The officers ignore him, busy murmuring about the commotion that they all witnessed downstairs. Even loonies can seem normal at first, they remark.

Uninterested, Levi pushes into the bedroom space shared by the single senior officers of the police station. Six mattresses each have their own square of the room, a slight upgrade from the quarters at the House. Still, sleep cruelly eluded Levi the previous night when beefy officers snored and his uncle rose frequently to patrol the space. His body still aches from hours of lying in one position with eyelids that refused to close, and he dreads the upcoming nights that will be filled with the same uneasy torment.

He sits alone on one of the middle mattresses, deftly shifting a hand along its side to feel for the bulge where his salary hides. It’s still there, thankfully. If shit goes south, he’ll take that cash and run.

He’d run now—right back to the House, if he could—but that’d upturn his sole reason for going with Kenny in the first place. Because he cares for the House, he had to go with Kenny.

It wasn’t his intention. When he refused Kenny, he was made markedly aware that he chose the incorrect answer. Before being allowed the mercy to try again, Kenny reminded him that the House is only protected from the law by his grace, and that immunity can change whenever the MP wants. With the weight of the House’s security on his shoulders, Levi had to follow his uncle.

He is sorry, but he does not regret it. Perhaps his housemates and Master will hate his wordless departure, but he’ll take that hatred over their persecution. He’d rather have only one soul suffer than a dozen.

And even under his uncle’s command now, he still walks on thin ice. If he steps out of line just a hair too far, the House could be doomed. His situation requires extreme servitude to an entity that offers no compassion or warmth like the Master did. It’s a prison, a suffocating spider web of rigidity and discipline that is immensely more loathsome than his early days at the House.

But he will survive. This nightmare is easier to shoulder than the streets, since this nightmare is a form of protection for those at the House. With a purpose beyond himself, Levi finds himself rather fortified to endure a life under Kenny.

The following day, Levi sits at the peak of the staircase and watches what he can of the hallway below, spotting only a glimpse of some officer’s head as they summon another colleague to the cells. He rubs his arms, his thumbs pressing against muscles that have gotten unusually soft. It hadn’t taken much strength to support himself when clients fucked his backside, and there was nothing pressing that encouraged him to keep the bulk. He’s not the rugged vagrant he used to be.

No wonder Kenny outranks him. The House has made him soft, inside and out.

“Is there an empty cell?” Levi recognises the voice of Nile as the prig stomps down the hallway. “Roeg’s bringing in a thief. I need a space for a few hours.”

“Should be,” another constable answers. “Only one is taken right now.”

“With who?”

“That uppity bloke that struck Kenny yesterday. I just fed him this morning.”

“Still? He can’t stay locked up forever.”

“Why? Is he nobility?”

“Not—not necessarily.” Nile’s choppy answer intrigues Levi. The eavesdropper shifts another step down, listening intently to the conversation. “But he’s not worth keeping around the station. He runs a business—he ought to go back to his business.”

It’s a coincidence, Levi tells himself. Nile must know several businessmen that he’d regret locking up for too long.

Still, if it’s not, that’s dreadful news for Levi. If the Master is locked up in the police station, he’s far from his gentlemen and stranded in enemy territory. There won’t be a House for him to go back to if he doesn’t return soon. Levi’s sacrifice will be for nothing.

“Ask Kenny,” the constable responds as they disappear behind a door.

Nile comes into view, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance to the cells that are obscured from Levi’s vantage point. Before Nile can return to the main area, Levi darts down the stairs and meets him. “Who?” he asks quickly, capturing Nile’s attention.

“Hm?” Nile recognises the ex-courtesan, but also knows that this shrivelled cat is under Kenny’s jurisdiction and protection. “What do you want?”

“Who did Kenny lock up?” Even this close to him, Levi can’t interpret what Erwin saw in such an awkward face. “Was it Erwin?”

Nile’s angular jawline becomes sharper when his teeth clench. “Kenny’s business isn’t mine. You can ask him yourself—”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Levi spots the closed entrance to the cells, his suspected prisoner beyond them. “What did he do? He struck Kenny?”

“Get your nose out of our affairs. You’re only here because Kenny’s in charge.” Nile snaps his head away, tarnished in the presence of a lesser human. “So keep to yourself.”

Levi’s tremendously dissatisfied when he leaves. It must be Erwin inside that cell, and he won’t be content until he reunites with the caged Master.

To free him, primarily. He needs to return to the House.

And secondarily, Levi would be able to give the farewell he had forgone. A simple apology would be enough before the two would have to go their separate ways.

It’s startling to think the dutiful Erwin has ended up behind bars, but it bodes well for Levi. This will be easier than stumbling across him by chance in the future or risking a visit back to the House.

During the next hour, Levi’s numerous attempts to creep into the cells are thwarted by officers telling him to shoo. He tries to step outside, to scan the perimeter and perhaps find another way in, but Kenny halts him and directs him to the archives room where he’s tasked with filing reports alphabetically.

“Just look at the first letter on the report. Find the matching one and sort it away.” That’s all Kenny gave before striding away, shutting him in a lonely maze of filing cabinets.

Levi flicks through the file box he’s been left with, already bored with the task. He doesn’t need to be doing this job that isn’t his. He has no interest in becoming a police officer.

Though, if he had to go that route, it might work to his benefit. Should he become an officer against his wishes, he could at least exist as the spy in the constabulary he once wished Kenny was. He could be the one to run check-ups on the House with none the wiser.

He wouldn’t charge Erwin a dime. He’d come back to the familiar space, shed his ridiculous uniform, and enjoy a few hours with the men before slipping out and resuming his patrol. If unruly clients were causing trouble, he’d gladly storm into a playroom and arrest them, bringing them to the station with some excuse that wouldn’t uncover the House. He could become the House’s guardian on the outside, Erwin serving as his inside counterpart.

Quite a symbiotic relationship. Levi relishes the daydream.

He thinks on it while filing, but his imagination only encourages him to continue his scheme to see the Master again. He has to get inside those cells, yet it seems as though the constabulary takes extra caution to keep him out of them. Ironic, he muses. The ex-thief is now exempt from suffering under the law.

It’s because of Kenny, he acknowledges. Kenny’s towing around a runt that he despises, but protects nevertheless. Though Levi’s been introduced to a new life alongside Kenny, it’s draining to be shackled to someone that demands his presence despite hating him so much. He’s detested for his height, and his inclination for men, and his ceaseless attitude. He can’t or won’t change any of it, and Kenny’s hatred will never wane, and the two have committed to living a miserable life together merely due to the blood that binds them.

Currently, one unexpected downside of that relationship is immunity to the cells. As long as Kenny’s around, Levi won’t be allowed into them.

Still, it’s worth a shot. Should Kenny be absent, there’s a good chance the constabulary will cave and arrest any rioting individual. If Levi causes enough fuss, they’ll have no choice but to confine him.

The plan excites him. He’s never feared the law, and now he’s given himself permission to wreak havoc against the stuffy bobbies. He has no choice; he’ll just have to send a fist into some prig’s face if he wants to get into the cells.

Without Kenny, though. He knows he has to restrain himself until Kenny is out.

If Erwin listens, he can make out the sounds of conversation far on the other side of the entrance. It’s been his source of entertainment for hours, and it will be until he’s set free or breaks free.

It’s only been one night, but Erwin has no clue how long Kenny intends to keep him. Going to trial seems extreme, even for Kenny’s standards, though Erwin figures he’d be released by now if Kenny just wanted to get a message across. Perhaps the MP is hoping the House will wilt when its Master is absent. He’ll keep Erwin just long enough to let the House collapse in on itself before releasing the Master to see all that’s left behind.

Hope isn’t lost. Erwin has contingencies—Titus and Russell among them. The men will panic, but those two will remain cornerstones and keep everyone safe. Business will continue for at least a fortnight. If he’s not back after that, the House will disband. Somehow, the gentlemen will find jobs elsewhere and life will move on.

It’s a plan for a fear he’s always harboured, one that may come true depending on Kenny’s fancy. If the constable comes by again, he hopes to persuade the stubborn bastard—

“Asshole!”

Erwin flinches when the entrance door swings open, a gang of officers and one riled criminal barging inside. “You can’t treat me this way,” the small convict snaps in a voice all too familiar to Erwin’s ears.

“Le—” He stops himself right away, though he’s on his feet and gaping at Levi’s steeled eyes. Say not a word, those sharp irises scream, meanwhile their owner puts on a dramatic show of failing to escape the officers.

“Kenny will have your fucking head—do you fucking hear me?! You wanna fuck with an MP?!” Levi loses his melodrama for a brief moment when a cell door is unlocked for him, his victory assured. “A damn cell? You’re really going to throw me in—”

Well, he has to throw himself a bit to sell the officers’ strength, but it’s convincing. He stumbles into the gritty box, barely catching himself. “Shitheads. You lock me in here, and it’s fucking over for you.”

“We’re police, not nannies,” an officer grumbles. “All you had to do was sit upstairs and behave. Kenny can come get you when he gets back.”

“You’ll be sorry when he does.” Levi makes no attempt at escape when the door swings shut, only admitting defeat with a heavy drop onto the shitty bench.

The officers are already leaving, churning up new conversations with no interest in the subjugated nuisance. Once the door shuts, Levi sighs.

“Levi.” Erwin finally drops the golden name. Awe consumes his thoughts and blossoms into joy, the unhindered joy of seeing his angel exist again. Here he is, alive and well and only a few metres away.

With his heart pounding, Erwin crosses to the iron bars separating their cells. So close, yet still so separated. “Levi, come to me. Come here. Please.”

“Don’t beg like that.” Still, Levi isn’t slow in rising and stepping closer. “It makes you sound pathetic.”

A small hand is taken by larger ones as soon as it passes through the bars. Erwin holds Levi’s arm close, pressing its palm into his cheek. Levi’s touch is stinging cold, but it gives Erwin a warmth he now realises he needs to survive. “Then I’m pathetic,” he answers, basking in the deplorable title. “Just where have you been?”

“Here,” Levi mumbles, his thumb reluctantly stroking Erwin’s cheekbone. “A floor above you.”

“Of course.” Erwin’s eyes float to the ceiling, picturing the story above. “I should’ve known.” He should’ve poked around a little more before confronting Kenny. Naturally, the MP will keep his prisoner locked up in his domain. Erwin did the same thing.

“And here you are, right beneath me this whole time. What the hell is Master Erwin doing in a cell?”

Erwin clasps Levi’s hands against his chest, putting his heart rate on display. “I struck Kenny, or so they say.”

“Did you?”

“Kenny says I did.”

“What an idiot.” Erwin’s not sure who exactly Levi is referring to. “And so he dragged you all the way to the cells?”

“Not necessarily. I was already at the police station.” Erwin tilts his head down, the lights bouncing off his eyes as he pins them on Levi. “Looking for you.”

“Well, here I am.” Levi’s feet inch towards the bars, wishing to phase through them. “Your mission’s complete.”

Far from it, Erwin laments. Bars still separate and imprison them, not to mention the armies of naysayers just beyond, Kenny leading them. It’s a gruesome battlefield to persevere through without even a guaranteed happy ending on the other side. It exhausts Erwin to think of what’s to come, but he knows it must be done. He has to get Levi back.

“Levi,” Erwin sighs, the word nearly a whine. “Tell me, why did you leave the House?”

Silence lingers. Levi clutches Erwin’s hand, his heart heavy with guilt. He looks only at their interlaced fingers, not at his eyes.

“Please answer me.”

The answer is very, very simple. It’s rational. Levi just needs to explain.

“Levi—”

“I had to,” Levi interrupts. “And it’s nothing against you. I hope you know that much.”

On the contrary, Erwin feels utterly clueless. He has theories and anxieties, but he’s yet to be given the truth. “Tell me why,” he pleads.

“Kenny said he’d shut down the House if I stayed. That’s all.”

Erwin feels Levi’s grip tighten, and he’s not sure which of them needs the other’s comfort more. “You left to protect the House?”

“Something like that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“It would’ve been a pain in the ass.”

An abrasive answer, one that evades true feelings.

“We could’ve worked something out,” Erwin tries.

“Like what? An uprising against the Metropolitan Police? My uncle’s assassination? What can we do against him?” Levi rests his skull against the bars, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I tried to think of other solutions, but as long as the House and Kenny both exist, I can’t do anything that would doom you guys.”

So selfless, it makes Erwin want to weep. He’s killing himself slowly by failing to put himself first.

“So you intend to live out the rest of your days with Kenny?”

“Well, until I get a job or something. He’ll probably be happy once I’m on my own—once I start a family and all that.”

“A family?” Erwin cannot fathom the thought. He was going to be Levi’s family, and give him everything he could ever want. They could live a fantastical life of intimacy and splendour, not the prosaic story Levi is forcing himself into. “You’ll be miserable, Levi. You can’t do that.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” Levi answers halfheartedly.

“We won’t. You must come back with me. We’ll find a way back—”

“No, Erwin.” Lifting his head, Levi finally forces himself to look at Erwin. “I didn’t get thrown in here to escape with you out or anything. I just came to say I’m sorry.”

It shatters Erwin’s heart to hear such an apology. He can’t even care for Levi’s culpability—he only worries for Levi’s refusal to return.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Erwin gently holds his chin, hoping he can entice his angel back to his side. “All I want is for you to return with me. Come back to the House.”

“There won’t be a House if I come back. You know that.” Resisting temptation, Levi manoeuvres his head away from Erwin’s touch. “It’s not the perfect outcome, but it’s the least amount of damage. You have the boys to look after, so you should focus on them now.”

“You cannot be serious.” Erwin feels a bitter emptiness when all of Levi’s body withdraws from the bars, from his grasp. “Are you telling me to forget about you?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything.” Levi hugs himself, cold and alone. “I know it’s not that easy. Of course I know that.”

“Levi, none of this is rational.” Even if it is, Erwin refuses to acknowledge it. “I won’t go through with this. You need to be happy and enjoy your life. You deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve shit,” Levi grumbles. “Especially not at the expense of the others.”

“That’s not a reason to quit trying.” Erwin feels his voice hurry and his thoughts panic. “Something else can be done. We haven’t considered everything.”

“We have.” Levi turns a shoulder. “I have.”

“You don’t know that.” There must be something Levi is missing. There is something Erwin and his experience can see that Levi is blind to. There is a solution, a way to ensure a happy ending for everyone. Even if Erwin hasn’t found it yet, he knows he will in time. “Just let me think it through. I’ll figure something out—”

“Come on,” Levi snaps. “Do you really think I’m that daft?”

Erwin clenches the bar, biting his tongue.

“I’ve already thought it through,” he continues. “I’ve already made my choice. You’re not going to uncover another answer just because you’re smarter than me. Just…accept that.”

An unsolvable issue seems illogical in Erwin’s head. There’s nothing he can’t solve to achieve the ending he wants. Even if a sacrifice is necessary, it is still possible.

Levi wishes that conniving look would vanish from Erwin’s eyes. This was meant to be a farewell, not a strategic meeting. “I don’t want our last time together to end like this. Can’t you just say goodbye properly?”

Erwin’s never seen Levi so resigned. He hates it.

“No,” he insists. “I will not. This is not the answer.”

Levi swallows down his sorrow and breaks his gaze away from Erwin. “Stubborn,” he mutters. “I didn’t—”

The door flies open again, the devil finally arrived to collect his sinner. “Damn,” Kenny grunts as he stomps to Levi’s cage. “You just have to run back to your lover any chance you get, huh? Do I need to keep you on a goddamn leash?”

Erwin’s system spikes with anger. He doesn’t need to see this wretched monster again, nor have him steal back the only perfect being on earth. Someone so vile controlling his angel—and by extent, him—sickens him to his core. He’s never detested anyone more than the vermin that’s invaded their moment.

“Relax.” Levi goes to the cell door, waiting for his uncle to unlock it. “Your shitty underlings just got fed up with me. I’ll come back out now.”

“What, after you’ve come up with a plan to elope with him?” Kenny glares at Erwin, Levi’s fictitious partner in crime. “You’ve toed the goddamn line, Levi. I’ll round up a squad and burn that fucking house—”

“Don’t,” Levi shouts. “For pity’s sake—I’m coming back. I’m right here. I…won’t do it again.”

“Until you do. Out.” Kenny wrenches the cell door open and tears Levi out by his collar. Levi makes no effort to fight him. “Do you want a new life or not? Clinging to your shitty past is not how you change.”

“I’m not.” Levi dodges eye contact with Erwin as he maintains his claim. “This doesn’t mean anything, Kenny. I’ll go back out with you.”

“I’m not that fucking gullible.” Kenny sidesteps his nephew and crosses to Erwin’s cell, glaring at the Master as though he were a caged lion. “Did you alert him you were down here?”

Erwin matches his hostility with ice in his eyes. “How, Kenny, could I possibly have done that?”

“I just overheard Nile,” Levi defends. “Erwin didn’t do anything.”

Kenny answers with silence, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged. Both miscreants must exist under his control, yet he still feels the most powerless of the three. They continue to outshine him with their repulsive dedication to each other.

“Fuck, kid.” Kenny drops his head, exasperation lingering after his wave of anger passes. “This really won’t fuckin’ do. I need to drive that goddamn whorehouse—and its Master—out of this city.”

Erwin petrifies his body to resist cowering back. “Have at it,” he challenges, strategic pride lacing his tone. “When you do, Levi will follow.”

“He wouldn’t,” Kenny tsks, dismissive of the idea.

“Why not?” Confident, Erwin toes the cell bars and dares Kenny to maintain such unfaltering eye contact. “You’ll hold no leverage over him then. Why would he stay?”

“Because he has a parent to honour. I know that concept is a bit out of your scope, peacock.”

“There’s no honour in his attachment to you. He only left to protect the House. Destroy it, and he’ll have no reason to maintain this farce.”

“Do you wanna fuckin’ test that?” Kenny sneers.

A part of Erwin does. A part of Erwin just wants Levi back, no matter what it takes. For a second, he wonders just how bad it would be if the Magnolia House fell. The courtesans would have to scatter and find work elsewhere, certainly. Erwin would be devoid of his life’s purpose—or what he believed to be his purpose. Meeting Levi suggests there’s more to him than the House.

He could survive if it crumbled.

And, he’d be able to survive alongside his other half. His angel. Frankly, it sounds like migrating from the mortal realm to heaven.

That part of Erwin, gradually increasing in prominence, wants Kenny to succeed. He wants the MP provoked and angered to the point of ripping the burden off Erwin’s shoulders and freeing Levi once again.

Let it fall, he chants to himself. You will start anew.

“Maybe,” Erwin murmurs, ominous and undeterred.

Levi huffs in dismay. “Erwin, don’t say that.”

“Listen to the runt.” Sick of the battle, Kenny drifts back to his nephew. “There’s no hope for you if your little sanctuary is destroyed.”

There’s plenty of hope. Erwin has enough finances to survive at least a year without a salary. Maybe a frugal lifestyle, but any lifestyle with Levi is desirable. They could move far from the city, somewhere where nobody would know who Erwin Smith is, and he could start again. Perhaps he’d become a professor, like his father, or buy a plot of land to lease out. Levi could find a career that suits him, or he could not work at all. If he preferred a life of domesticity and simple chores, Erwin would gladly provide for them both.

“That’s what you want to believe.” Erwin follows alongside Kenny for as far as he can. “You need that to be true, Kenny. But you don’t know if it is.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Kenny opens the door and ushers Levi out. “I’ll take down the House first, if you’d like. Then I’ll come for your men next—and you. Think carefully about whether you prioritise that many lives over Levi’s.”

As the two men leave, Erwin takes a step back and returns to his perch on the bench. Kenny raises a fair point, though it’s far easier to hide several people than an entire building. Given time, Erwin could evacuate the House and save everyone.

He can save everyone! He’s found a way. Levi couldn’t come to this conclusion because he was focused on keeping the House afloat, but what he failed to account for was Erwin’s absolute indifference to his life’s work. Nothing matters more than Levi now, a fact that Levi himself didn’t realise.

It’s easily a happier ending than the current situation. I told you, Erwin boasts to his absent partner. I will bring you back with me.

Chapter Text

Erwin stands on a street corner, relishing his recent freedom. The wind bites his skin with harsher teeth than usual, but he pays it no mind. He’s been released following an epiphany that struck Kenny, one that told him the two star-crossed lovers probably shouldn’t be less than a floor apart. Given a warning and tossed to the streets, Erwin finds himself free from the law’s clutches and free to strategise.

He’s not giving up on Levi. Even as he leaves his lover’s cage and makes his way to the Magnolia House, he knows he’ll be back soon. The next time he leaves that police station, he intends to have Levi by his side.

Coming upon the House, he is confident it will have marched on without his presence. He was gone only one night, too short to stir a panic. The men are a collected folk, and they will—

“Oh!” Chester’s voice calls out as soon as Erwin steps inside. “Master!” He leaps out from behind the receptionist desk and sprints down the entrance hall, quick to ring the alarm. “Russell! The Master is back!”

“Chester, please don’t shout,” Erwin reprimands as he slowly follows behind.

“Master!” Russell and several other employees flock out of the lounge, gathering around their leader. “Where on earth were you?”

Erwin sees the faces around him, surprised to see them so distressed. “I told you I didn’t know when I would return.”

“Still, I didn’t expect you to be gone overnight.” Russell glances back at the few clients the whole House has abandoned in the lounge.

“You managed, though, didn’t you?”

“I suppose. Business went on.” Russell shifts his weight onto one leg. “Did you find Levi?”

Erwin’s happy to say that he has. He’s devised a plan with so much confidence, he feels nothing but joy despite his distance from Levi. “I found him. It will be a while before he’s back with me, but I know where he is.”

“Thank god,” Kirk sighs, keeping his distance. “Maybe we all will survive another day.”

“Hey—Master!” From one of the playrooms, Jules bursts out with hardly any clothing and wide eyes fixed on their caregiver. “Master! Oh my god!”

Erwin’s trapped in a constricting hug within a second, though Jules struggles to wrap their entire wingspan around his frame. They hide their face in his chest, ignoring the quiet scoldings from their coworkers. “Jules, your appointment—”

“He’s okay.” Jules doesn’t even look in the direction of the playroom they left behind. “I’ll get back to him in a second. You’re back. That’s all I care about right now!”

“Truly,” Erwin sighs, wriggling a hand out to rest it on Jules’ scalp. “I was gone less than a full day. You can go that long without me.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Russell adds. “We didn’t know when you were coming back at all.”

“It was freaky.” Jules clings to Erwin’s forearm, securing their Master in place. “I got really nervous. We figure you’d be back—we hoped—but there was always the chance you wouldn’t—”

“I’m here. All is well,” Erwin assures. “Now, please return to caring for our customers. I’ll be in my office if you’d like to speak with me.”

“Thanks for coming back,” Kirk calls. “We…we really did miss you, y’know. Everyone was on edge.”

Erwin answers with a solemn nod. “Thank you for your concern.”

The group disperses, and Erwin walks with pleased thoughts to his private office. Levi will be back soon. That’s all he can think about. He repeats the sentence so often, it burns into his mind.

Laughing, Erwin settles at his desk and clasps his hands. Creep, he tells himself. To lust over a single man so much will cripple his rationality. He’ll achieve nothing if he mindlessly basks in a potential future.

To start, he must script a new list of contingencies to answer a myriad of what-if scenarios. Should Kenny turn up tomorrow unannounced to tear the place down, he has to be ready. He needs to find a way to relocate a dozen employees in professions and places where they and their identities will be protected. He has to plan for resistance from his employees—they might not all be so eager to dissolve their livelihood.

In fact, they celebrated his return with more zeal than expected. They seemed ready to implode without his presence; he thinks he may have trained them to be a hair too dependent. Setting them free won’t be easy.

In a fleeting moment of clarity, Erwin takes a step back and evaluates his actions. He plans to dissolve the House, and he not once has bothered to explore the implications of that choice.

It will change lives to a degree that Erwin can’t sweep away. Whether it happens tomorrow or a month from now, the courtesans will have to readjust after Master Erwin drives them out. He can’t assume that the transition will be flawless.

It’s such a drastic change, Erwin has to remember why he’s committing it. For Levi, he knows, though he expects nobody else to understand that. His subordinates will not be pleased to know he’s demolishing their House for the sake of one man.

That evening, the structure of the House groans as wind dashes through the streets, snow swirling outside the rattling windows. Erwin’s castle seems as uneasy as his heart, both suffering from an uncertainty of their strength. He ascends the staircase with the same trepidation he knows Levi must be familiar with. Now, he fears the courtesans. He lacks the freedom to say whatever he’d like, oppressed under the possible reactions of his followers. It pains him—never has the House suffocated him like this.

“Gentlemen,” he calls as he comes into the common area. The sounds of clinking silverware and chewing mouths diminishes, though the storm outside continues to howl. “Thank you for returning to work so diligently. You all take care of yourselves very well.”

Their faces seem different from usual. Erwin feels his words are not as effective as they used to be.

“I want you all to know that Levi’s been taken to the police station by his uncle, Kenny. I spoke with Levi, and he told me he had to leave lest Kenny sic the law on our House.”

“Damn,” Russell sighs, courtesans murmuring around him. “No wonder.”

“He could’ve said something,” Jules adds.

Erwin wishes someone would creep to his side. Let him come back, he wants one of them to say. We’ll sacrifice our House for Levi!

They wouldn’t. That sentence doesn’t fit on the tongue of any of his disciples. Erwin feels the weight on his shoulders grow heavier.

“I’m considering it.” The words are spoken before Erwin has any more time to panic. It’s out in the open now, in the hands of his courtesans.

“Considering…letting Kenny take down the House?”

Erwin meets Russell’s eyes, the first of his adversaries. “Yes.”

“…For Levi’s sake?”

“That’s right,” Erwin answers in a diminished tone.

The room isn’t sure what to say to that. Maybe they want to support him, though they may be reluctant to tolerate that level of stupidity. An entire business reduced to dust for one single soul is inane.

Erwin swallows. “Though, you all are quite important to me. I won’t make any decision until I consult with you.”

They offer no consultation. What are they to say? To ask a dozen souls to sacrifice their livelihood and family for one man is a despicable request. Erwin realises that now, in a room full of silent mouths.

“Master,” Titus rumbles, his thick brow sunken. “There’s no way to skirt the truth: none of us want to leave the Magnolia House. Many of us have built our lives on it; we’d be hopeless without it. You must know that, don’t you?”

Similar to Levi, some of these courtesans would be forsaken without the House as their oasis. Some may lose their identity, the one aspect they could feed in this sanctuary. Erwin would be cruel to strip them of that.

Erwin, too, will suffer from the loss of the House. This has been his monument for years, his declaration of control over his sexuality and his denunciation of society’s wicked bigotry. He thrives on allowing sinners to merge in carnal pleasure, raising an army of whores that excel in draining the pockets of hungry pigs. It is a remarkable feat for a failed son.

To throw it away would destroy a part of himself, but he feels that part is waiting to be filled with new potential. He thinks, should he make room, Levi can occupy that void. Levi and his unwavering love.

That love has dumbfounded Erwin to a staggering degree. Nothing can wreck his composure or blind his sensibility the way love has. It’s a cruel vice, one that he has largely ignored for years or translated into sex, though it demands attention when Levi spills its name. I love you was uttered to him by a man sent to offer him salvation, and the angel’s words have dictated his every move since.

“Gentlemen.” Erwin hears his voice, thin and meek. He hopes his expression is still neutral. “I…”

…love Levi? That wouldn’t be a wise thing to say to this crowd, nor to himself. Erwin is the king of sodomy, always encouraging his gentlemen to ignore predetermined relationship roles and take freedom in sexuality. It would be a devolution to confess the very feelings he seems immune to.

Nevertheless, he wants Levi. Surely they must realise that.

“I am not ready to give up on Levi.” He sees lips purse and shoulders slouch. “Nor my gentlemen. I will not do something rash that would endanger you all. You have my word.”

Some take comfort in that, others don’t. Kirk picks at a splinter in the table, his eyes averted from the Master. “What are you going to do, then? I don’t think you can do both.”

“I will find a way,” Erwin promises with dogged assuredness.

The look Kirk gives him suggests very few listeners believe that claim. He’s just sworn he can do the impossible, and even those that know his intellect and strength are doubtful.

Erwin chooses to gauge the reactions of his other gentlemen. He’s having a hard time stomaching Kirk’s glare.

Jules is especially quiet. They tend to get that way when heavy thoughts pester them, choosing utmost silence over letting a drop of emotion leak out. Erwin knows to express concern when they lose their talkative nature.

And he knows to express it privately. When Jules can’t speak up, expecting them to do so before a crowd is impossible. Erwin can only hope for a confession when nobody else is around to hear.

“I’ll be in my office tonight to catch up on work. Any of you are welcome to speak with me.”

He has to turn away, his heart scorched by their hostile gazes. He forgets any proper farewell as he descends the staircase, absolutely deaf to the few courtesans that do bid him good night.

In his office, he turns off his mind and completes paperwork, calculating employee salaries and taking notes on upcoming appointments. Time passes quickly, not a soul bothering him for a while. The storm outside continues.

When the clock reaches two, well past curfew, a broad shadow follows the door as a tiny courtesan opens it. Jules, of course. Erwin expects them more than anyone else to take advantage of a private moment with the Master.

“Jules.” Erwin doesn’t skip a beat in returning his quill to its holder. “Is something on your mind?”

Once they creep closer, Erwin can see the puffy red under their eyes and the thin cuts on their lips, the results of anxious teeth gnawing into them. They’ve been crying—or they’re about to.

“Yeah,” Jules whispers, their voice strained. “Yeah.”

“I’m here. Come speak with me.” Erwin, on instinct, moves from his desk chair to the couch, encouraging his employee to join him. “Here, come sit.”

Jules does, taking the place they have occupied so many times before. They’ve often needed the Master’s company, especially when they started out, and they seem grateful Erwin is still indulging them in that luxury.

Erwin knows what comforts them, but he also realises he’s in a new position following his announcement at dinner. He’s not quite the almighty Master Erwin anymore, and the courtesans are more of distant employees rather than loyal disciples. They are no longer a part of his collection—he has lost any need for collecting by now.

Thus, he chooses to extend respect that has always been implied prior. “May I?” Erwin requests as he braces an arm along their shoulders, holding them close.

“Yeah,” Jules breathes, losing all words in their vocabulary but that one. They consent further with a head dropped against Erwin’s chest, still taking solace in his embrace.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’d be grateful to hear your thoughts.” He’s forgotten how to rule with a firm hand, disinterested in squeezing answers out of Jules. He’s a worthless king without constituents, and he finds it more fitting to kneel before them instead.

So he gives time, and Jules takes it. Several tense minutes pass in silence, Erwin practising utmost endurance while Jules holds back their tears and brings forth their words. Eventually, when even the storm outside roars with impatience, Jules speaks.

“I was so worried,” Jules squeaks out. “Levi said everything would be okay. He said he wouldn’t let the House take priority over him.”

Yes, and therefore he forfeited a life of comfort to protect it. He kept his promise to Jules.

“I thought I was being paranoid,” they continue. “I…I’m so sorry, Master. I convinced myself that Levi was right—that you wouldn’t put anything above the House.”

Yet Erwin has, and he’s in no position to deny that. Though the gentlemen aren’t privy to his plan, he’s already determined to let the House fall for one man’s sake. Finding a way to keep both alive would be truly ideal, though challenging.

“But it’s not fair for you, either.” The first words that suggest a level of sympathy for Erwin give him a sense of comfort he’s been desperately lacking. Finally, someone seems to understand.

“Not fair?” Erwin speaks up, itching for more. “Why is that?”

“You…deserve to be happy, too.” Jules hugs themself, their body rigid. “And Levi. Everybody does. I…I just want everybody to be happy.”

A whimsical daydream, seen only in storybooks. Happy endings won’t exist for everybody, a fact Erwin has known since he was outcast from his family. It will be impossible to please everybody—instead, the question is how to avoid the least amount of pain for the most amount of people.

Besides, Levi himself requires Erwin to truly consider everybody’s feelings. If Erwin smites down the House and comes to claim Levi, Levi will want nothing to do with a sacrificial bastard that traded several lives for one. He’ll be rejected by Levi if he fails to find an adequate solution for all.

“As do I,” Erwin murmurs. “Can that be done, Jules? Can I find a way to keep everybody safe?”

A grim laugh tumbles out of Jules. “You’re asking me? I dunno anything.”

Indeed, Erwin’s strategic mind is the best-equipped for the conundrum. The burden rests on him.

“Well, indulge me.” Erwin will take any advice to start. “Where would you go if not for the House?”

They talk as a brainstorming boss and employee, musing on what could be done if their family fell apart. Jules thinks of places to go—sweet clients that might care for them, or an extremely estranged family that they’d beg their way back into. Erwin asks about friends, to which Jules says they exist only in the House. They like Titus shooing them out of the kitchen, or Chester sketching the magnolias, or Levi vaguely complimenting their outfit choice. Jules loves their coworkers, perhaps more so than anyone in the House. They wish to avoid a life without them.

“We wouldn’t have to scatter,” Erwin assures. “I wouldn’t want us to. At the very least, we could keep in touch.”

“How?” Jules has found the strength to glance up at Erwin. “I can’t even write.”

“Telegraph is viable. They have operators that can input the message for you.”

“Mm. Maybe so.”

“Naturally, you’re welcome to visit as well. I might not be your employer anymore, but I will still care for you as a friend.”

“Where are you going to live?”

Erwin ponders and eventually admits he isn’t sure. Away from the city, probably. Wherever Levi wants to go, most likely. Even if Levi wished to live underwater, Erwin would be damn sure to make it happen.

Soon, Jules is placated enough to dismiss themself for the night. Erwin escorts them to the quarters, wishing them a good night he should’ve issued earlier. He’s grateful for their conversation, feeling tension wane as he’s discovered at least one ally.

The storm rages on. Like a beast it howls, scampering through the streets and allowing nobody a wink of sleep. It batters against sturdy doors and tests the integrity of the home’s walls, fighting to pummel its way inside.

At least they have that in common, Levi bitterly muses.

It’s as if the storm wants to help him knock on the door, but all it’s accomplishing is drowning out his raps and shouts. Not only does it smother him, but it stabs him with knife-like gusts of wind and throws bullets of snow at his back. Mocking his useless clothing, cold slips right under his hem and turns his skin to an icy grey, bearing resemblance to a corpse.

Blue fingernails turn white as he claws at the door, mustering the strength to knock again. He does, painfully slamming a fist into the wood, but the tiny thud sounds no different than the rattle of a window or a tipped barrel.

“Erwin,” Levi screams, though he might as well be whispering. Alone and freezing, he asks himself why the hell he bothered to sneak out and find Erwin. Even as he watched the storm grow from the safety of the police station, he told himself his attempt at a goodbye wasn’t good enough and that he should try again. One more time, properly. Maybe Erwin will have come around and will accept his departure.

He should’ve known the universe doesn’t want that. It’s denying him entry to Erwin’s home now, sending a winter storm to block his efforts. Erwin is probably fast asleep, lulled by the patter of snow against his window. He’ll never hear Levi.

He clenches his teeth to stop them from chattering. His body is still shaking, frigid to the bone, and he curses it for being so pathetic. It’s just chilly—he ought to keep it together.

“Erwin!” He tries again, pointlessly. The next fist he sends into the door screams in agony as it meets timber, its skin splitting so the wind can slice into his tiny wounds. “Fuck.”

Clutching his hand, he sinks against the door and falls into a tightly-wound ball, conserving as much body heat as possible. Shaking, he holds himself and clings to the wood, wishing a sliver of heat from within would sneak outside and soothe him.

Alas, the home is dead and hollow. It feels like it hasn’t been occupied for years—like whoever lived there has been long gone.

He should go back to the police station, he knows. He should slip back inside and huddle on his pathetic mattress and pray Kenny doesn’t notice his escapade. This was a fruitless venture, and he’s an idiot for thinking there’d be any worth in seeking out the lover he must estrange.

“Wh—Levi!”

Levi almost thinks he’s just hallucinating. The cold is really fucking with his head.

But no, Erwin has appeared in the streets like a ghost, his blond head a beacon amongst the snow. Erwin is indeed coming closer, a look of shocked worry on his face, and he’s kneeling down to swipe up the shivering cat.

Even if it’s really the grim reaper taking him away, Levi doesn’t care. “About f-fucking time.”

“Levi. My god, what are you doing?” Erwin’s fishing out his key, fumbling to thrust it into the lock while his arms are full. The storm is on his side when it flings open the door he unlocks, allowing the two inside.

“P-put me down. I can walk.”

The fact that Levi’s not even making an effort to escape suggests otherwise. Erwin shoulders the door shut, blocking out the storm, and drops to the floor with arms fiercely wrapped around Levi. He squeezes hard, transferring as much heat as he can even if it destroys Levi’s ability to breathe. Grasping at any available space on the small body, he prays and prays for the trembling to die down.

“Levi,” he breathes, his breath warm on pale skin. “Oh, Levi. My angel. Why—why have you done this? Why do you keep making yourself suffer?”

Levi keeps trembling. His head is buried, his hands clenching Erwin’s coat. He can’t speak.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” Erwin panics about what to do to heal his soldier. A fire is needed in the fireplace. Coats. Blankets. Tea, perhaps. Anything and everything must be done, yet right now he refuses to loosen his grip even a hair. Above all else, he needs to be present for Levi. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve stayed at the House so long. I should’ve been here every night for you—”

“Please sh-shut up.” The hands on his coat pull at the fabric, clawing at their hero. “S-stop fucking apologising.”

“I will. Whatever you want, Levi.” And he means that earnestly. He doesn’t know what it means to lead right now—he’s resolute on taking care of Levi like a true servant should. The angel’s wish is his command.

For an eternity, they hold each other in silence. The air in the home is cold, the only source of comfort coming from Erwin’s body. Levi buries himself in it, desperate to crawl inside his ribcage and forget about the world outside. He puts icy hands on Erwin’s waist, shoving them underneath the coat to reactivate blood flow.

“Fuck,” he huffs, grateful to finally feel his jaw move without aching. A throbbing aggravates his head, but it’s a minor side effect of recovering from the hellscape outside.

“We don’t have to move yet,” Erwin assures, carding fingers through damp, black locks of hair. “Whenever you’re ready. Just speak to me.”

Levi goes still in Erwin’s hands, hoping time will stop for his sake. This isn’t fair—he’s here to offer a real goodbye, yet from the first moment he’s being persuaded to reject Kenny altogether. He should resist this temptation and speak plainly, though he refuses to move.

How could he? He sits in the grasp of a devoted man, someone who looks upon him like no other. Erwin has pulled every possible emotion out of him, showing him new things to feel besides hatred and despair. After many years, he finally feels loved again. He couldn’t possibly give that up.

But he must.

“Erwin,” Levi rasps. “You’re choking me, idiot.”

Erwin loosens up on command, pinning his hands to Levi’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

Levi wants those blue eyes to quit casting such a worried look. He glares at them through his brow, trying to make them mirror his forced indifference. “This—this is the last time, okay? We can’t keep holding each other like this.”

“No—wait.” Erwin breaks out of his trance to hold Levi in place before he can rise. “Wait, please. Don’t escape me this time.”

“It’s for the best.” Levi grapples Erwin’s wide wrists and pulls, his frostbitten muscles struggling against Erwin’s obsessed grasp. “Please, Erwin. Let go. This can’t go on.”

“Let it,” Erwin pleads. “You came back to see me. Why can’t we keep holding each other?”

“Why do you think?” Levi frees his shoulders, only for Erwin’s hands to zoom around his back and interlock tightly against his spine. “For fuck’s sake—you need to move on. I do, too.”

“No, we don’t.” Erwin speaks as a Master once again, as the legendary manipulator of everything the sun touches. The odds are back in his favour, giving him the right to boast. “Things have changed, Levi. You can stay with me now.”

Levi, his torso thrown back in an escape effort, halts. “The hell are you saying? You’d better not be—”

“I’m going to dissolve the House, Levi. Kenny will have nothing to attack once I do.” Erwin cranes his neck to find Levi’s eyes, excited to see his reaction. “So you can come back,” he adds with a hopeful tone.

“The fuck?” Levi spits. “You—you fucking moron.” And again, his wriggling starts up. “You’d better be making that shit up. Who in their right mind—”

“I’m not,” Erwin interrupts, his voice soft but his grip like iron. “I’ve already told the other gentlemen. I’m going to spend time finding them places to live and work.”

Levi tears Erwin’s hands apart, demolishing the shackle and tossing himself backward. “Dammit, Erwin!” On his feet, he takes quick steps back from his opponent. “Why the fuck would you do that?!”

Erwin stays on the ground, slouched and miserable like a neglected child. He gazes at his empty hands before finding Levi in the background. Levi’s anger hurts, but that anger stems from a beautiful form of compassion that Erwin could never fault. As expected, Levi will despise anyone that threatens the well-being of his loved ones.

“You know why. I want you back.” If Erwin has learned anything from his angel, it is the ability to speak freely when one’s heart burns with desire. If Levi can proclaim feelings of love without so much as flinching, Erwin ought to be able to do the same.

“That doesn’t matter.” Levi’s words are made of ice, absent of any sentiment Erwin holds. He speaks this way not only out of compassion, but out of despair, too. Wrath surfaces to cover up a void of hopelessness in his heart. “You’re screwing over so many people for nothing.”

“For you. You’re not nothing to me.”

“Shut up,” Levi hisses, sick of the sappy proclamation. “The House is your life, Erwin. You’d be damn stupid to throw it all away.”

“The House holds no meaning anymore. I built it to boast my sins; I have no need for that now.”

“I don’t care about your grandiose justification.” Suffocated in the rage that kept him alive for years, he treads back towards Erwin with every intent to intimidate. “You still have employees that need the House—you’ve made them dependent on it.”

“Yes,” Erwin admits, solemnly lifting apologetic eyes to his captor. “I have, and I wish to atone for that. I’m going to take care of them once the House is gone—I would not be vile and cast them out ruthlessly.”

“Do they even want that?” Levi towers over the foolish Master, utilising every technique possible to frighten the victim into changing his mind. “I’m sure none are interested in leaving just so you can follow your fucking heart. It’s—it’s so selfish, Erwin.”

Jules’s voice lingers in Erwin’s head, reminding him that everybody deserves to be happy. As it stands, Erwin finds no happiness in a life that does not embark on the wondrous journey Levi had just begun with him. “I’m not fit to run that type of business anymore. Rampant sodomy is of no interest—truly, Levi, I only want you. Can’t you take pity on that?”

“Yeah, I pity you.” Squatting, Levi knifes Erwin with a glare so sharp, it’d seem impossible for love to have ever fostered between the two of them. “You’re a wreck that’s sabotaging a dozen lives because you’re lonely.”

“Because you’ve shown me something I want more of.” No matter which tactic Levi employs, Erwin is not afraid. He merely lifts a hand to gently cup Levi’s anger-stricken face. “Am I truly alone in my feelings?”

“Quit.” Levi rips the hand away and slams it into the door above Erwin’s head, acting as hostile as possible. “You’re not alone, obviously. But that doesn’t mean it should be a priority. You need to consider what you’re doing to everyone else.”

Erwin doesn’t resist Levi’s pin; he’s content to have him so close again. He deems himself a wicked pervert with how gleeful he is to simply witness Levi’s face, even if it’s contorted with rage.

“I’d rather live with that burden,” Erwin states. “I will take care of them, and I will have you back. It’s a better life to live than maintaining a House that doesn’t interest me.”

“You’re insane.”

The words nearly excite Erwin. If he’s insane for the sake of Levi, so be it. “I’ve already made my choice. I beg you to come back to me.”

“You’re backing me into a corner,” Levi accuses. “You’re giving me no options.”

“You can stay with Kenny. All I’ve done is remove his leverage against you.”

Levi stiffens his grasp when Erwin’s wrist flexes. “But—I wouldn’t fucking stay with him then—”

“Then don’t. Please, follow your wants for once and come back. I can’t live with myself if I let you suffer a life you hate.”

“You’re tearing down everything for my sake,” Levi gnarls. “Don’t you hear yourself?”

“Yes!” Erwin exclaims. “I do. I know what I’m doing and I know precisely why I am doing it. It’s as you say: I feel something. Something powerful that I myself still cannot even grasp. It’s been haunting me for days, but I don’t know what to do without it. I’ve lost control of myself the past few days because…because truthfully, I am so smitten with you, Levi!”

A sound of shock slips past Levi’s lips, his body petrified and weak. “S-stop,” he stammers. “Don’t manipulate me like that. It’s cruel.”

“I would never toy with you. I just need you back—I’m growing desperate. I miss your presence every minute you’re not with me. I’m freakishly obsessed, and I cannot save myself from feeling this way.” Erwin is holding Levi without realising, and he’s witnessing an expression that is pained from the unwarranted praise it’s receiving. “Levi, am I permitted to say I love you? I can’t think of a more accurate phrase.”

Levi blinks, his body otherwise still. A swallow is carried down his throat before he takes in enough air to speak.

“Bastard,” he whispers. “Where was this earlier? Why’d you make me feel crazy for so long?”

Erwin watches the way Levi gnaws into his lower lip, an onerous effort to keep his emotions contained. He feels guilt swirl in his chest, damning him for ever denying Levi’s feelings—or his own. “I’m so sorry. I had no grasp of the idea until I met you. Thank you for staying by my side regardless.”

Levi crumbles, exorcised of his rage and left only as a stoic shell that rests a head against Erwin’s shoulder. He accepts the heavy arms that encase his back, now the weaker of the two and in need of comfort.

“Once more,” he whispers so quietly Erwin nearly misses it.

Erwin indulges him. “I love you, Levi.”

The words seem to wound his angel; Levi coils up more and bites back a bout of tears. Clenching his teeth and sniffing, he grasps at Erwin’s shirt and repels any desire to weep.

“Dammit,” he curses. “Damn it all, Erwin.”

Erwin smothers Levi’s lips against his shoulder, shutting up the pained rebuke. “I mean it with all my heart. I don’t fully understand it, but I know I mean it. I love you, and I do not want to live without you. So, I beg you, please come back. Give me one week to clean up the House, then return to me and we can escape.”

“You’re living in a goddamn fantasy world,” Levi mutters, though his voice hardly has any strength behind it.

“I’m saving us. Can’t you let me do that?”

Straightening his spine, Levi sits up with his head hung low. “What choice are you giving me?”

“Levi, please.” Erwin wants to believe he’s past the life of a manipulative owner. “Do you want to come back or not?”

Levi scoffs, fierce towards the prospect, but that cloud lasts for only a moment before it dissipates and his vulnerability comes forward. “Yes, obviously. I think about it every damn day. But…things have happened. I’m with Kenny now.”

“You only have to be for one more week. Then you’re free.” Yearning for his gaze, Erwin clasps Levi’s small hands in his own. “Pursue what you want. I implore you; make yourself happy. You’ll save both of us if you do.”

Swallowing, Levi squeezes Erwin’s fingers and nods. “Fine. Okay.”

Erwin’s gasp is embarrassingly audible, earning an eye roll from his partner. “Forgive me,” he covers up. “Thank you. I mean to say thank you.”

“Yeah.” Reticent, Levi rises once again to clear his head. “I’m going back to the station. I need to think.”

“Why?” Erwin climbs to his full height, unintentionally blocking the exit. “Stay here tonight. There’s a storm out.”

“Can’t. Kenny will lose his shit if he finds out I went missing.” Hugging himself, Levi nods at the door. “Let me out.”

“Levi, it’s far too cold—”

“I have to go, Erwin,” Levi snaps. “I made it here. I can make it back. Step aside and let me get back to the station before Kenny really fucks me up.”

“Then—at least take my coat.”

“No. That’ll look suspicious.” Shouldering Erwin aside, Levi grasps the frigid door handle. “I’ll come back in a week. If a single one of your employees is left worse off, I’m kicking you to the streets and taking care of them. Don’t you dare make any of them suffer.”

“I won’t.” Erwin loves Levi’s protective wrath; it’s pleasant to be a victim of it. “They will be kept safe. You have my word.”

“Good.” Levi’s mouth is agape, ready to say more, but he finds nothing to put on his tongue. “Good night, then.”

Chapter Text

“I intend to dissolve the House one week from today.”

The air noticeably shifts with that sentence. Courtesans slump in their seats, the bolder of which actually sharing their opinion with a scoff or a huff.

Erwin anticipated this response. It’s grim news to hear for anyone, especially these men.

“When I do, I plan to leave the city for good. Any trace of Erwin Smith and the Magnolia House will be gone.”

“Master,” he hears a gentleman mutter, the word like a curse.

He continues. “During this week, I will ensure each and every one of you have a safe place to go to. If we’re unsuccessful before the week is up, you may stay with me for as long as it takes.”

The lounge is motionless. Why did Erwin remove the spine from every one of his employees? He wishes he hadn’t been so firm with training them.

In a moment of desperation, he looks to Russell. Say something, he urges.

“Are you certain?” is all Russell offers.

“I am.” Erwin figures the words of a stone wall are going to elicit stone reactions. They’re all simply modelling his attitude. “These days are past me now.”

“Are they?” Kirk rolls his neck, choosing a carefree pose to act like he couldn’t give a shit. “Titus is older than you. Are you saying he’s overdue for retirement?”

“It’s not retirement. My mindset has changed, and thus I cannot appropriately run a brothel.”

“What changed it?” Kirk challenges. “Sorry, let me try again. Who?”

“Kirk,” Jules pouts, casting a rarely-seen glare at their coworker.

“Levi.” Erwin doesn’t miss a beat. “You all must know that. I’ve had an affinity for Levi from the start.”

“Congratulations,” Kirk deadpans. “Just…great. Good for you.”

Erwin hates this feeling of oppression, but he has suffered worse. The screams of his parents ring in his ears, reminding him of how hot hell can burn. These embers are nothing.

“If you lament my choice, then you agree that I am not worthy of leading you all anymore.”

“Master,” Titus speaks up next. “These aren’t pleasant things to hear. It’s even harsher to hear you express no sympathy for our side of things.”

Damn Titus and his level, reasonable claims. Erwin’s weak against such rationality.

“I’ve made my choice. We must focus on getting each of you relocated now.” He turns to absolutes as his defence. Nobody can waste time moping if they focus on what to do next.

“Okay.” Kirk, at the end of his rope, shoots to his feet and crosses to the exit. “Great fucking choice, Master.”

Erwin opens his mouth to speak, to halt the irascible traitor, but he decides against it. He’s not anybody’s parent anymore—everyone here is allowed to do what they want.

“Pack your belongings,” Erwin commands to the remainder. “If you need luggage cases, I will supply them. Come speak to me if you have a destination in mind, and we’ll arrange transport. Not one of you will be left behind, I swear it.”

And so it goes. Clients arrive soon, interested in their scheduled appointments, and Erwin makes sure to catch each one and warn them of the upcoming dissolvement. Some scold the Master, telling him he was never clandestine enough with his business, while others seem to have their heart broken when they learn their haven is being destroyed. They plead with him, offering money and support, but he denies any bribe. Some offer to take up the House themselves, advertising themselves as worthy businessmen and owners, yet they are rejected too. Erwin couldn’t picture handing the reins to somebody else—this House is his, and it will remain his even in its death.

Courtesans gossip while packing, some returning from appointments and others finding no interest in getting out of bed. For the first time in a while, the disarray atop the vanities finally finds some sense of organisation as men claim what’s theirs. There’s an occasional bout of bickering over a shared rouge palette or a borrowed dress, but most fights end in a dreary realisation that it hardly matters. Some men give away their belongings freely, disinterested in keeping attire that can’t be worn in public.

Erwin checks in often. He checks the playrooms and the quarters, making sure all of his men are managing. Kirk is avoidant, but catching a glimpse of him slipping into the washroom or hurrying down the stairs is enough reassurance for Erwin.

Jules greets the Master warmly whenever he enters the quarters. They struggle to fit in yet another dress atop the dozen or so they’ve already packed, and Erwin suggests it might be easier if they leave a few wigs behind. They talk, musing on what takes priority, until Erwin eventually settles on simply buying another suitcase for the courtesan.

Russell and Titus talk to each other more than usual. Eavesdropping, Erwin hears them mention each of the courtesans, wondering who’s going to end up where. Like the Master, they prioritise the House’s population first before taking care of their future.

Nightfall comes. Erwin has to return home, just in case Levi is waiting for him, but his home is empty and he sleeps alone.

Across the city, Levi watches from the hallway as Kenny breaks the finger of a lying thief, demonstrating to his nephew the proper way to interrogate. He’s getting sick of the sound of fractured bones. To soothe himself, he remembers how tightly Erwin hugged him, how much Erwin’s voice trembled when he professed his love, how brightly Erwin’s eyes burned when they longed for Levi to stay.

It’s a small comfort. This hell is unimportant because of its impermanence: it will all be over soon.

When Erwin comes back to the House, his men announce that Kirk is gone. Only a few clothes were taken and his toiletries were cleaned out. Nobody saw him leave, nobody knows where he went.

Erwin spends the day wondering if there is anything to be done about that. Levi might hate him if he can’t confirm Kirk’s whereabouts. Then again, Kirk is not his property and has the right to go anywhere, even if it is unsafe. Consulting Russell reassures him—his advisor tells him that Kirk has always been a man of the streets, like Levi, and will take care of himself with more ease than the other men.

Some men have full suitcases and ponder where to go. Others haven’t touched any of their things and resume work like nothing is going on.

More clients come. Some weep. Others strike the Master. Erwin pays their temper no mind—if anything, it’s flattering to see them so torn up about their sanctuary. His work is unbearable for him now, but it’s remarkable to look back and see the effect it had on so many lives.

Titus leaves the House that day to correspond with an old colleague. He tells Erwin beforehand, and he promises to be back before dark, but it’s still peculiar for Erwin to see an employee leave freely. Soon everyone else will follow.

On the third day, Erwin thanks Chester for a portrait given to him, a rather impressive pencil sketch meant as a parting gift. He stores it in his office, during which he wonders what to do with that magnolia painting, before excusing himself from the House to seek out transportation for his men.

He purchases a few train tickets, then charters a carriage service to pick up some men within a few days. Slowly, his numbers are accounted for. He’s keeping a list of every courtesan and their destination—some names still left without a location. Kirk’s name is crossed off.

When he returns to the House, he finds a courtesan and a client waiting with a peculiar offer. Upon first listen, Erwin finds it reasonable, but he wonders how mutual the consent is.

“Quincy,” he begins after hearing his employee’s request. “I must speak with you privately.”

“No, really, it’s okay.” Quincy’s about as confident as he’s ever been. “I’m not coerced or anything. Cecil’s a good man—I mean, you know how many appointments I’ve had with him.”

“That demonstrates nothing more than an interest in the business,” Erwin remarks, eyeing the client at Quincy’s side. “Just because he books often doesn’t mean he’s good to you.”

“You don’t need to be wary,” Quincy assures. “Ask him anything you want. Go on, Cecil. Talk to Erwin!”

Cecil, a common client of Quincy’s, doesn’t hold any malice in his gaze. He musters a polite smile, though Erwin chooses to doubt his own intuition and stay cautious around this client attempting to whisk his employee away.

This client had tame requests, paid well, and booked regularly. A prime customer, by all accounts. He’d rather someone like this promise to take care of a courtesan instead of someone like Beast.

“Do you live with anyone, Cecil?”

“No, Master. I live alone.” Cecil accepts the hand that Quincy slips underneath his, clutching the fingers of his own prized treasure.

“What’s your occupation?”

“I own a law firm. I’ve promised Quincy that all his needs will be met; I make more than enough to afford it.”

“Quincy? Do you trust his word?”

“Absolutely! I used to help him with cases during our aftercare. He said I could even learn reception work—filing papers and all that.” Quincy clings to Cecil’s arm, addicted to his rescuer. “It sounds fun. I want to continue my education, too. Once I can read, I’ll help him out a lot more.”

Indeed, Erwin never had the time to convert his brothel into a schoolhouse. Once a gentleman entered this space, their academic journey came to a halt. It’d be best for some to pick up where they left off.

“Well,” Erwin starts, battling against his own uncertainty. “I’m in no position to stop you, Quincy. With where we stand, you may go where you’d like.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes. But stay in contact with me,” Erwin requests. “Send letters to my home address. Have Cecil write them. I’ll visit frequently during these first few months, and I hope you’ll welcome myself and Levi when we do.”

“Absolutely.” Quincy squeezes Cecil’s bicep, ecstatic to receive permission. “Thank you so much, Erwin.”

When the fourth day comes, Erwin finds himself awfully tired. He’s exhausted from juggling a dozen names and their futures, planning prospects for men like they’re all his growing children. Throughout it all, he worries about Levi. He strokes the empty space in his bed and imagines Levi’s skin under his palm. He wonders what expression Levi might give if he said I love you again, and if that expression would remain the same the next hundred times he says it. Not a day should pass without those words shared, Erwin vows.

Titus meets with him at midday, presenting a train ticket headed for a northern naval port that he intends to use.

“The train leaves tonight,” Titus explains. “I intended to stay longer—to help the other gentlemen leave—but I cannot miss its departure. My colleagues are waiting to rendezvous on the northern coast.”

“That’s quite alright. Do you think she carries the same crew?”

“More or less. My colleague says the captain would be pleased to have me back.”

“And you, Titus? Would you like to return to a whaleship after your years spent here?”

“I believe I would.” Titus rubs a thumb along the ticket in his hand, fixing a recent crease. “I left following a tropical storm that decimated the ship—I wasn’t quite ready to set sail after that. But time has passed. We have a new vessel and we have a good opportunity. I believe I should take it instead of waiting for a better one to come along.”

“I see.” Erwin sees little issue in Titus’ future. They had discussed his past during his interview years ago, while Titus was stripping freely for the Master’s examination. He avoided solemn topics and instead shared tales of swashbuckling adventures on the high seas, and Erwin became a fascinated listener while hugging Titus’ thighs and burying himself inside.

Even then, it sounded like a fantastical life, and one Titus was clearly passionate about. Erwin hopes to see him thrive again.

“Will you feel restricted in such a place? I would hate for you to live out your days in secrecy.”

Titus gives the tiniest of grins, his pleased lips hidden under his thick beard. “The culture on deck was rather comfortable back then. I’m sure it’ll be about the same now.”

“Good. I do hope so.”

“I’ll write when I can. You’re welcome to visit the shipyard for the next few months; we won’t depart until April.”

“Thank you,” Erwin says. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Levi sits up in bed that night, gazing at nothing. His hair is overgrown, the area of his undercut a bit shaggy. He drags fingers through the short hairs and sighs.

“Go to bed, kid.” His uncle is awake, too, rereading a report by moonlight.

“I’m not tired.” Like a petulant child, Levi refuses to lie down.

“Still thinking about that whorehouse?”

Despite making no mention of the House in a few days, Kenny still continues to pester Levi for his past. If Levi were not leaving, he wonders how long those sort of remarks would last. It’d likely take marrying a wife to convince his uncle that he has no such interests anymore.

Fortunately, that is not the path he’s embarking on. After tonight, he’ll have only three more days to wait.

Then he will go home at last.

“Hey.” Russell comes to Erwin as soon as he enters the House on the fifth day, requesting he come inside urgently. “You need to come see this. The Velvet Room—come take a look.”

Erwin follows his employee into the Velvet Room, where most of the courtesans linger. They gawk at the disarray around them, appalled to see the playroom so dishevelled.

Worn circles of wallpaper are the remnants of where wall lamps were once bolted, now empty without the fixtures in place. A small portrait is missing from the dresser, and the candelabra beside it has been stolen with the half-used candle shafts left behind. Half the pillows atop the bed are gone, some of the remainder stripped of their covers and left bare.

The metals, fabrics, and art, Erwin deduces. Things of value—at least to someone making their best guess.

“Who’s missing?” he asks mere seconds after scanning the room. No doubt this is the work of a nighttime thief, most likely one of the courtesans slipping into the night during the mass exodus.

“Give it, Chester.” Russell’s telling his coworker to hand over a scrap of paper he’s clinging to, perhaps a clue as to the perpetrator. Chester releases the note with a huff, though he allows Russell to wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders while Erwin receives the message.

Scraggly handwriting. Not many words.

Sorry! Had to go. Took a few things.

Thanks for everything! I’ll miss you guys. Especially you, Chester. Take care.

Earl

That’s that. Earl’s gone the way of Kirk, vanishing without another word and even absconding with a few valuables to pawn off. Not a bad strategy, Erwin has to admit.

“How are the other rooms?” he asks.

“They seem fine.” Russell silently asks for the scrap back, trying to return Chester’s new keepsake. “Chester and I cleaned the rest this morning.”

“Thank you.” Erwin looks over his employees, only five of which still remain. A dwindling population, less than half its maximum. It’s a rather dismal sight for the once prosperous businessman. “If any of you have time in between appointments, I would appreciate help in dismantling this room completely. The others will be taken down as well, but we ought to begin with the one Earl has chipped away at.”

They prepare for the day’s work. Once Russell takes the time to read aloud, yet again, the note Earl left for the illiterate Chester, he leaves his coworker and joins Erwin in the Velvet Room. The Master and his advisor work solemnly, folding up sheets and clearing out drawers with the shared understanding that this is the prelude to the House’s destruction.

“Do you know what you intend to do with the House?” Russell asks, making conversation while they work. “The physical building, I mean. Will it serve a purpose once we’re gone?”

Erwin smiles to himself, sensing the walls of his castle waiting for his answer. The air is still as though the House is holding its breath, nervous to comprehend its fate.

“It might,” Erwin answers. “But if it does, it won’t be by my hands. I hold no interest in protecting mere bricks and timber.”

“If you say so.” Russell puts all the chairs in a line, preparing the furniture for shipping rather than display.

“What of you, Russell? Have you planned somewhere to go?”

“Not yet.” His advisor perches against the table. “I’m waiting for the other gentlemen to go. I’ll need to look after anyone that doesn’t have a place.”

“I already promised I’d do that.” Of them all, Erwin may miss Russell’s presence the most. His dedication to his colleagues is spectacular—second only to Levi. “And almost all are accounted for. The rest will be leaving soon.”

“Who’s left?” It’s a question of necessity rather than curiosity. Russell simply has to know that his coworkers will be taken care of.

“Jules and Chester. And you. The other two are leaving tonight: they’re going back to their families.”

“I see. Then I won’t go anywhere until Jules and Chester have somewhere to go.”

“That’s kind of you.” Erwin takes a mental note of the room’s remaining contents. Pillows, used candles, products for intercourse, and several pieces of furniture. He thinks on how to discard them while returning to the conversation. “Once they’re settled, do you have an escape? I can’t allow you to stand by as the House closes.”

“I believe so. I served as a secretary and dealer at a gentlemen’s club before the House. I’m sure I can return there.”

Erwin recalls the tale told to him while he sank his length into a diligent, respectful interviewee. Russell’s introduction to the House was one of the smoothest and his background made him more suitable for his new position, thus he became a quick hire. He’s familiar with pandering to rich, snooty gentlemen and perhaps seducing those with sinful inclinations into forking over more money.

“I’m sure they pay well, too,” Erwin comments.

“They do, though I’ll miss the House’s salary. A steady flow of clients gave me quite a safe cushion financially.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.”

“Hey!” Jules bursts in, as interruptive and cheery as ever, and scampers to their employer. “Master, I don’t have any clients for the rest of the day. Can you come with me to buy another trunk?”

Erwin eyes the small hands clutching his sleeve, gripping and needy. He sighs. “I’ve told you not to use Master anymore.”

“Sorry, habit!”

Of all the habits to break, Erwin must chip away at Jules’ dependence on the House. On their Master. “I’ll be occupied today. Russell, would you like to take them to the market?” Perhaps offering a surrogate caregiver will suffice.

“Hey, Jules.” Russell lifts himself off the table and drifts towards his coworker. “Where do you want to go when the House comes down? Do you have anywhere?”

Jules fidgets with the button on Erwin’s cuff, their eyes wandering as they think. “Not really. I could go home, but…I don’t want to.”

“Then you won’t have to go there.” Russell takes Jules by the arm, just firm enough to peel them off Erwin. “Is there any job you would want? We ought to find an occupation for you.”

Again, Jules is reluctant. Nothing immediately comes to mind. “I dunno. I’ve never worked anywhere else.”

Indeed, Jules had promised incessantly during their interview that they will perform well despite an empty work history. Erwin had informed them that no glamorous past was expected, only a willingness to embrace the present. Jules wholly embodied that when Erwin bent them over, accepting his invasion with a tad too much ease.

“We’ll think on it while we shop. Come on.”

On the sixth day, pawnbrokers wait outside the unlabelled building for Mr. Erwin Smith to greet them. He appears and guides them inside, directing them to the playrooms where he asks for estimates on the available furniture and wall decorations. They bite back questions about why he has only four extremely eloquent rooms in this bizarre building, trusting his congenial smile and his promise of the items’ quality. Regardless of his purpose, they offer money and ship out whichever bed, couch, or table interests them. Erwin packs up candelabras, blankets, and flower vases as well, giving them to pleased businessmen that pay him finely in return.

In the evening, he sits in the dining area with Russell, Chester, and Jules. This group is all that’s left; the House is awfully hollow without more bodies filling it.

They share a pot of quality tea, taking what is usually reserved for well-behaved courtesans or elite clients. Free to indulge in everything, they could eat fifty feasts and gorge themselves on preserved meats and fresh fruits, but they merely drink. Erwin intends to pack some for the trio and some for Levi. The rest will be left on the House’s doorstep, free to any thief’s hand to take.

“It’s quiet,” Jules notes for the third time. “Do you guys have any clients left?”

“They all should be turned away by now.” Erwin submerges his gaze in his teacup, wondering which of his tea varieties Levi would like the most. Perhaps he’ll take them all for his partner. “You three certainly have empty schedules. You’re welcome to leave whenever you’d like.”

“Nah, we shouldn’t leave you alone,” Chester says. “There’s still things to clean up here, aren’t there?”

“Not much. I’ll handle the rest tomorrow. Speaking of, would any of you three like the money I’ll earn from that?”

“No.” Russell sits closest to him, far more casual than an employee of his would’ve in the past. “I can make enough for the three of us. You’re out of a job—you need the money until you and Levi can secure work.”

“Wait, do you have something secured?” Jules, failing to consider Master Erwin’s future, now turns with wide eyes as new fear infects their mind.

Erwin is not as anxious about solving that issue. He has his home, and he’ll have Levi in a few days. There is enough money for them to survive for some time.

Even if there wasn’t, Erwin wouldn’t mind resorting to scavenging in the streets alongside Levi. So long as he’s with his angel, he’s willing to go anywhere.

“Not yet. Levi and I will stay at my home until we decide what we want. I won’t make any plans without him.”

Russell shrugs. “Fair enough. If you need support, I’ll house you and give you money. We’re not going to fall out of touch.”

“That’s generous of you, Russell. I’d hate to lose contact with someone like you.” Erwin looks at the other two, the remaining courtesans that have accepted Russell’s offer of living with him elsewhere. “Chester, Jules: you’ll be helpful to Russell, won’t you? I need the three of you to support each other.”

“Absolutely.” Chester glances up from a vague geometric sketch he’s been doodling. “I think I’m gonna get into painting. If I got really good, I’m sure I could sell my stuff and make money. The churches even commission artists if they’re prolific enough.”

Jules chuckles. “I’d love for some high priest to display work made by a sodomite. We might accidentally curse a holy place with our dirtiness.”

“Oh, dear,” Chester huffs sarcastically.

“I may step foot in a chapel if I know your art is in there.” Erwin gives a soft smile, finding it easier to converse with these men as friends rather than subordinates. He can joke alongside them; he’s no longer the boss that checks in with stern reminders and paychecks.

“You might burst into flames,” Russell remarks.

“And you, Jules? You will look after the two of them, yes?”

“Yes, I will.” Jules’ tone is forcefully determined, covering up a layer of insecurity wrecking their confidence. “I…I don’t have any job ideas, but I’ll keep the house clean and cook. I’ll look for work, I promise, but at least—”

“Don’t worry. Erwin’s just trying to scare you.” Russell drops a hand on Jules’ scalp, coaxing his newest family member out of panicking further. “Just don’t make me worry about you—I don’t care what you do beyond that.”

“You would’ve run a very languid House if you were Master,” Erwin says with a breathy chuckle.

“No doubt.” Russell brings Jules’ hand back to the teacup he wants them to drink. “I waste my austerity in the playscenes.”

“You three have a home, don’t you? I can only provide housing for two more nights at most.”

“Yes,” Russell says. “There’s an inn on the edge of the city we’ll stay in until I find a house. We’re not planning on leaving the city.”

“Very well.”

“Will you?” Jules asks.

“If Levi wants it,” is Erwin’s answer. “He may. We both grew up here, but I think this place is full of unpleasant memories. Starting new somewhere else wouldn’t be so bad.”

By the seventh day, the House is empty. Erwin dismissed his three remaining men the evening prior, peeling a teary Jules off his frame before handing them over to the grateful Russell that insists upon maintaining communication. Chester waved out the carriage window as it clattered away from the Magnolia House, transporting the final servants away from their sanctuary.

Erwin comes into the dreary foyer by himself, the jingle of his keys unusually loud in the open void. He starts the lighting in the House on his own, no personnel up early to illuminate the space for incoming clients. It is a bizarre tranquillity, one that soothes him despite holding the weight of a masterpiece torn to shreds.

He enters his office, his eyes set on the magnolia painting. Beneath it, he sees the desk that has supported countless bodies as he ravaged them, indoctrinating them with his mighty sense of sexuality before sending them away to convert more. It seems to slouch, reaching the retirement of its purpose.

It’ll sell well. Perhaps it can become the centrepiece of some politician’s office despite being saturated with years’ worth of sweat and semen.

The painting, too, will look fine in an eccentric landowner’s home, gazed upon as each passerby wonders its meaning. Erwin finds its intention obvious; he wonders if the thick-headed aristocracy could deduce the same.

More brokers are coming by later. He decides to conduct another walkthrough of the House to check for other cash opportunities.

The Velvet Room is a floor and four walls, a bare ceiling capping it. The bed Levi shrivelled up in is gone, four circles imprinted in the carpet left as its ghost. Its partner, the Ivory Room, has a naked canopy bed left, the same that Levi was tied to as he screamed his false love for Beast. Erwin’s desperate to get that bed sold—he needs no trace of the Beast to linger in his trail as he leaves this place behind.

The common area is made with cheap tables and rickety chairs, ones that Erwin won’t expect to sell easily. He never devoted much funding to simple things kept out of sight. As long as his men were pretty, he figured they wouldn’t mind how askew their table was.

The quarters feel like a ghost town. Bunk beds remain, not a single body occupying them. The vanities are nearly clear, just a loose makeup brush or cracked hand mirror left behind. Crooked chairs sit beside them, waiting for users that will never come again.

It’s not so bad. These rooms served their purpose and now their time is up. This House was beautiful, a glorious beast when it was in its prime, but its extravagant days have come to an end. Erwin hears the floorboards creak underneath his shoes, like the House whines and begs for him to stay. It’s old, withered, and unable to take care of itself.

As Erwin sits in the Iris Lounge, he communes with what remains of the House’s spirit. Its next owners will be the law, as soon as Kenny discovers his nephew is missing. Erwin cannot halt the stampede of constables that will seize this place, though he is pleased to leave them with no sinners to smite down. They may pillage the Magnolia House all they want, but its clientele is gone and its servants are scattered.

Its Master, too, will have taken his leave and gone away. He has found a new way to foster his sexuality, one that needs no palaces nor audiences. So long as Levi loves him, he has all the affirmation he could desire.

Chapter Text

The key is left stuck in the lock of the Magnolia House’s main door. Whoever stumbles across it next can take it.

Erwin disciplines himself against looking back as he leaves his palace, knowing there is nothing of importance to glance at one final time. Whatever’s back there is decrepit and worthless; the only things of value lie ahead.

Now left as simply Erwin Smith, he walks with a new air of isolation back to his home. He wouldn’t quite call himself lonely, but there is still a hollowness in his heart that will ache until it’s filled. Without the physical reminder of why he tore down his kingdom, it feels as though he’s gone mad and acted with no reason at all.

But that is not the case. Levi, he reminds himself, singing the name in his head to keep his spirits up. Once home, he’ll wait for Levi. Levi will come to him. He and Levi will leave the city. They will live a splendid life that will make the ex-Master forget about anything that preceded his new heaven.

At his home, he leaves his door unlatched before starting a fire in his living room. His home is awfully bare now, just as gutted as the House. The paintings on his walls have sold well, though Erwin’s not entirely pleased with the aristocratic hands most of them fell into. The furniture will stay in the home, perhaps of use to the next tenant, and he’s already submitted a letter of termination to his landlord. What remains of his possessions are packed into trunks upstairs or shoved carelessly into a rubbish bin.

He puts on a candle in his windowsill, promising Levi that he is definitely home and waiting, before slumping on the couch with an expectant eye on the door.

It’s just barely sunset. Levi probably won’t attempt escape until late at night, long after the constables and his uncle fall asleep. Erwin will be waiting a while, subjecting himself to a true test of his thinning patience.

Minutes turn to hours. The sun disappears, leaving behind its bright lunar sibling to fight through the cloud cover blanketing the earth. Erwin only moves to stoke the flames or retrieve another log, only to return to his seat right after and point his gaze at the window. He can’t think to do anything else but wait.

When most of his neighbours’ windows have gone dark, a drop of panic trickles in. Yes, Levi may need time, but how much? How difficult is it to slip out of the police station unnoticed? Levi is a stealthy veteran of the streets, but he may struggle in a place so heavily guarded, alongside a man so fiercely intent on keeping him trapped.

He managed once before. Surely he’ll be able to do it again. If Erwin were to show up looking for him, that may doom them both.

Erwin’s fingers smart as he vices them together in a tightly interlocked grip, his jaw just as stiff like he wants to crush his own teeth. He feels a throbbing in his skull and his heart, barely pinning himself to the couch instead of sprinting out of the home and tracking down Levi. He has to trust him and wait.

He doesn’t dare look at the clock. He cannot bear to know how much time has passed, how less and less likely Levi’s escape seems.

When he hears a pop from the fireplace, he wonders if it was actually a footstep outside. Brief gusts of wind could’ve been mistaken for a body running quickly in the street, and even the rare crow that zooms past his window could almost be a black crop of hair moving like lightning. He doubts every sensory input until he feels his mind wither, bogged down with a deluge of suspicion and anxiety.

There’s a knock. Not a moment later, Erwin has thrown himself off the couch and paces to the door.

He halts for a split second, getting his act together lest he disappoint Levi with his giddiness, before stepping to the window and checking the identity of his guest.

It’s him. No sooner does Erwin recognize this than he has torn the door open, ushering his angel inside.

“Levi.” Erwin’s voice is laden with awe, the sound of a disciple before their god. At long last, his lover has returned. “Levi, my angel. I’m glad you’re here.”

Levi is unkempt, dressed in clothes that have reached a dissatisfactory level of grunge matched with hair that is shaggy and uncombed. The shadows accentuate the bags under his eyes, sparing no mercy from the face that is set in weary reluctance.

But upon seeing Erwin his brow lifts by a hair and his lips part to draw in a silent gasp. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice whispery. “Finally.”

Feeling his urgency, Erwin swiftly steps to the side. “Come in,” he offers. “Please. I have a fire going.”

Levi steps over the threshold, entering the home as if it were a foreign land. Concern plagues his thoughts—he’s ecstatic to be here, but he worries about what it took to accomplish this situation. Whatever happened, he is not deserving of it.

“The men.” Levi pitches his gaze over his shoulder. “Are they taken care of?”

“Yes,” Erwin promises, closing the door. “Every single one. I did not leave the House until everybody else was gone.”

Swallowing hard, Levi feels the cries of a dozen souls as they flee the brothel once and for all. Did they want to go? Did Master Erwin drive them out against their wishes?

The Magnolia House itself cannot be overlooked either. The business and its spirit—its meaning—have all faded into oblivion for Levi’s sake. It grips his heart with guilt to see the path of destruction left in the wake of Erwin’s love.

“What about the House?”

“It’s done for, Levi. All gone.” As a free man, Erwin comes before Levi, putting hands on his waist and imploring his gaze to soften. “Everybody is safe and happy. You, especially. I will never allow your life to be troublesome again.”

Levi does not escape Erwin’s embrace, basking in a luxury that he has been severely starved of. “You’re damn stupid,” he mutters, though his words are weak and hollow. “Nobody would go to this much effort for one person.”

“I already did.” Erwin is boastful and pleased as he lifts Levi to his toes. “The Magnolia House was a small price to pay—I’d have sacrificed much more for the man I love.”

“Sap,” Levi hisses, though his expression betrays him when it displays infatuated awe, complete with needy hands clutching Erwin’s lapel. “You—you’re so pathetic. So…just so…fuck…”

“I know, I know.” As Levi teeters between his feet, Erwin lets an unbridled smile claim his lips as he feels his jackhammering heart match the pace of Levi’s. “My love for you is awfully pathetic. Please—don’t let me be the loner this time. You love me too, don’t you?”

“Don’t—don’t beg for an answer like that.” Levi’s voice quivers as his hand grabs at Erwin’s nape. “Of course I love you, Erwin. Of course—”

He stops his own speech when he connects his lips to Erwin’s, finally stealing the kiss he’s desired for months. Every part of it sets him on fire: the way Erwin’s hands clench, the heat between their bodies, the thin moans they both spill into each other. Drunk with desire, Levi uses the tips of his toes to push higher, embedding himself deeper in the kiss. Erwin wildly assists, bracing hands and arms wherever useful and tilting his head with no intention of yielding. They stay merged for an eternity, their fervour mighty enough to last lifetimes.

“Erwin!” Levi nearly cries out when they finally detach, his breaths hot and his tone desperate. “Fuck, Erwin—”

He’s kissed again, of Erwin’s volition this time. The blond’s arms ache as they hold up their angel firmly, but he can’t seem to care. He needs more, and more.

“Levi,” Erwin grunts, speaking against Levi’s cheek. “I love you, Levi. I love you so much.”

“Gh—mm—” Levi nearly topples over when both bodies move a foot into the home, trying to transport themselves while still locked in incessant kisses. He’s almost carried as Erwin stumbles to the living room, clinging to the larger man’s shirt and distracting him with parted teeth and an invading tongue.

“Er—sh-shit.” The crooks of his knees hit the couch’s armrest and he flops backward onto the cushions, freed by his partner’s hands and sprawling gracelessly.

“Let me love you,” Erwin begs, awkwardly crawling his way over the armrest while fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “Please, angel.”

“So—f-fuck.” Levi shivers when wet lips nip at his neck, his partner forgetting about disrobing in favour of pleasuring his body. “So fucking needy.”

“Indeed.” Erwin slows, lifting his head and side-eyeing Levi with lust-riddled eyes.

“No—no.” Tugging angrily at Erwin’s shirt, Levi demands his partner resume his work. “I—I didn’t say stop.”

“Good,” Erwin hums. “Then I’ll continue.”

Levi works free buttons on Erwin’s shirt even as his neck is attacked, pausing often to groan with delight or meet Erwin’s lips with his. It’s loose at last, and Erwin sheds the garment as Levi rips his own top off.

Presented with a new canvas, Erwin pushes Levi’s frame across the thin couch and dives down to his chest, nibbling on softened pectorals and raking hands over a fleshy abdomen. Levi twists fingers into his blond hair, muttering a mixture of curses and praises, while his cock throbs in the fabric of his trousers.

“More—more, more…” Levi’s arms sling over the opposite armrest, holding his body in place as if he were clinging to the railing of a swaying ship. “Erwin—I need you. Fuck, I almost went insane—”

“I know, Levi. I could barely maintain myself without you.” Erwin shifts back, hooking fingers under the hem of Levi’s trousers and peeling them down. “Not a minute passed when you weren’t on my mind. Every passing day was worse than the last.”

Levi shudders as Erwin slots a wet hand between his asscheeks. “Nn—please—yes. I missed you. Please—please—!”

“I will.” Shifting back down with a finger slipping inside his lover, Erwin pecks Levi’s cheek. “I’ll make you feel wonderful, my love. I’d love nothing more than to do just that.”

They kiss, Levi’s whine vibrating their lips as his entrance is stretched after days of disuse. His only way of showing appreciation is clawing into Erwin’s skin, kicking heels against his thighs and grinding his hips into Erwin’s hand.

“Oh,” Erwin exhales, panting hard. “This is remarkable, Levi.”

“Shut up—hah!” Levi’s spine arches when his favourite gem is gouged into. “Can’t fucking help it—fuck—I love you so much—” His moans don’t stop, barely interrupted by hitched gasps for air. He throws a leg up freely, opening himself as much as he can for Erwin to dig deeper.

“You wreck my patience.” Erwin takes a brief moment to wipe his hairline with his clean hand before he works his slacks down, fumbling to fist his cock and free it. “Let’s let the neighbourhood hear us, Levi. Let’s show off how nobody can love like we can.”

“A-arrogant—bastard—nh!” Levi winces as the fingers leave him, his neediness shot to the extreme like a switch flipped. He perks his ass up, his body contorted wickedly to give itself to Erwin. “Please—pleaseputitin—fuck me—please—”

Wildly disorganised, Erwin grips Levi and guides himself in, stuffing his length as fast as reasonably possible. He needs to feel Levi swallow him, desperate to merge with the small body beneath him. “L-Levi,” he stammers, hugging Levi’s bent leg fiercely. “Ah—Levi—”

Levi almost goes incoherent, tearing fingertips into the armrest, and trembling with Erwin’s cock inside him. He flings a poorly aimed hand out, pawing dumbly at Erwin’s chest. “Here—c’mere—please—”

Erwin falls into a kiss as he snaps his hips into Levi’s, exploding both sweat-soaked bodies in a flurry of pleasure. They grip at each other, rutting like dogs, all while moaning fervent praises into the ear of the other. Levi’s legs close around Erwin’s torso like a set of jaws, pulling his hips up for Erwin to ram deeper.

“Erwin,” Levi whines with every breath. He sounds pained, but pleased. His voice is strained with overwhelming sensation, the sort that’ll push one beyond the limits of joy and into a fog of unknown, torturously confusing euphoria.

They meet eyes briefly, while Erwin is taking full advantage of the deep angle he’s been given, and it’s enough to proclaim the obsession each man holds for the other. Levi fights to keep his gaze, hungrily cupping Erwin’s face in both hands and squinting at him in a pleasure-riddled wince. Erwin yields first, dropping his head to press his forehead against Levi’s and feel the heat from his lover’s exhales.

“More,” Erwin groans, though whether that’s a request or a warning, Levi isn’t sure. All he can do is moan shamelessly in response.

And indeed, Erwin delivers with a quicker pace, a vicious one, that tests the integrity of the couch and wrecks anything resembling a human left in Levi. He makes his lover shake, his speech lost, as he hugs Erwin’s neck tightly and whimpers into his neck. Erwin swears to support him even as he thrusts into him, throwing them both into a tsunami of almost unbearable pleasure.

Levi sinks teeth into Erwin’s collarbone to muffle his high-pitched whine, offering no other warning of his sudden and intense orgasm. He twists his eyelids shut, his eyes rolling back behind them, as strength is drawn out of every muscle.

Erwin buckles at the feeling. With Levi wrapped around him like vines, he doubles over and bucks into him until his cock burns with lust and his own release spurts out.

Groaning, he dumps himself into Levi, holding the body that holds him just as tightly back. He has to tell his muscles to stop rocking, to slow their pace and shift down to a relaxed state. Bit by bit he descends, switching his attention from primal fucking to intimate affection.

“Levi,” he whispers, his voice gruff. “Levi, are you—”

“Hold on.” Not once since his orgasm has Levi separated his face from the crook of Erwin’s neck, hiding some expression against his partner’s skin. He still clings fiercely, his frame still trembles. Erwin’s used to extreme highs like this, yet he figures something is not quite right.

He hears a quiet sniff, an effort to withhold tears, and that alone is enough to confirm his worry.

“Levi.” Lowering their bodies into the cushions, Erwin tucks his chin down to try and seek out Levi’s eyes. “Levi, speak to me. Are you alright?”

His partner nods, even as his chest stutters with shaky breaths.

“It’s alright,” Erwin murmurs. “Take your time.”

Should he say any more, he might insult the fragile cat. Instead, he does nothing but shift beside Levi and embrace him, rubbing a slow hand along his spine while he waits.

Soon, Levi’s breath finds its rhythm. He slackens his grip ever so slightly, then makes a careful choice to peel his face off Erwin.

“Fuck.” Rubbing the base of his hand against his cheekbone, Levi pushes out a forced sigh. “Fuck. Sorry. That was…I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Erwin looks down to see wet eyelashes and red eyes. “You never need to apologise for things like that. Did I do anything wrong?”

“No,” Levi quickly denies. “No, you didn’t. Not at all.” He turns his head to the fireplace, the smouldering embers reflecting in his eyes. “I…got overwhelmed, I guess.”

“That makes complete sense.” Erwin’s surprised he didn’t weep himself. This past week has been taxing on both of them; being reunited at last and flooded with euphoria would be jarring for anyone. “Let’s rest a while longer. I’ll make sure we bathe thoroughly before we go to bed.”

“Okay.”

As the fire dwindles, their naked bodies meld into each other. The sweat on their skin dries and the breaths drawn into their lungs are even and calm. Lethargy overwhelms them, blanketing both in serene slothfulness that encourages them to never move again.

It must be quite late at night when Levi finally rubs his nose. “We’re filthy. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Let’s,” Erwin echoes, heaving himself up and slipping arms under Levi’s frame. He takes his lover from the couch and carries him to the staircase, their clothes left behind in front of a dying fire.

Once in the bathroom, Levi steps down from Erwin’s grasp and moves to draw the bath himself. “Let me,” he insists before Erwin can even think to protest. “I know how to prepare a bath. Since you’re not the Master anymore, I figure I can handle taking care of us every now and then.”

“Ah.” Anchoring himself to the doorway obediently, Erwin tilts his head with an affectionate smile on his face. “Master aside, I would still like to take care of you often.”

“I can’t always stop you,” Levi says, his hand swishing in the rising water level. “But—it’s something I want to do too. So…let me.”

Yielding, Erwin’s head drops in a slow nod. “Whenever you’d like, Levi.”

“C’mon.” Bracing himself, Levi pokes a sensitive foot into the churning waters. “Hot enough to melt your skin off. Just how you like it.”

“Quite considerate of you to remember my tastes.” Erwin treads closer, watching his partner’s clumsy struggle to step into the boiling pot. “I can use a cooler temperature, too, if that’d make you more comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable.” Impatient, Levi tugs on Erwin’s wrist and nods to the water. “Get in. You’re covered in sweat.”

Erwin is guided in and made to sit by his lover, suddenly transformed into a customer that Levi furtively works to scrub down. The tub is still filling, their pond shallow, but Levi makes efficient use of what’s available and scours Erwin’s body until more soap is visible than skin. Erwin makes do with what little contact he can earn while Levi works, reaching a hand out to comb back Levi’s hair or running fingers along his thigh when possible. He’s enamoured, fallen into a trance upon the sight of his extremely focused cleaner.

“I love you, Levi.”

“You’ve gotten really comfortable with those words once you figured out what they mean.”

“It’s never felt so good to say them. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of telling you.”

“Well, I love you too, but forgive me if I’m still recovering from astonishment.” Levi reaches over Erwin to twist shut the spout. “I still can’t believe I’m hearing what I hear from you.”

“It can’t be that astounding.” Erwin welcomes his tired worker into his arms, hugging his wet body against his chest. “You know I’ve always cherished you.”

“You thought I was valuable,” Levi rebukes, his scowl pressed against Erwin’s collarbone.

“Indeed. Then I came to love you as you taught me what matters more than corporal lust.” Erwin fixes wet locks of raven hair as he talks. “Can you forgive me for my flawed mindset back then?”

“Softie,” Levi sighs. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t forgive you.”

They remain in the tub until the water turns tepid, claiming a second nap almost immediately following their first. Erwin mumbles a vague comment about how they should try sleeping in an actual bed and Levi responds with a lazy promise that they’ll move eventually. They don’t, not for a while. Only once Erwin catches himself from nodding off does he nudge Levi.

“We don’t need to drown the same night we reunite. Up; I’m sure I have something you can wear to bed.”

With only a few hours until sunrise, the pair eventually find their way to the bed and sink deep under the sheets, magnetising to each other like they know no other way of life. Levi’s back is glued to Erwin’s chest, Erwin burying his nose in damp, inky locks. He matches Levi’s tempo of breath and lets his eyes flutter shut.

“Erwin,” Levi speaks, his voice softer than a whisper.

“Hm?”

“What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

“We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes, angel.”

“Please, Erwin.” Levi layers a hand atop the one holding him close. “I have to know what we’re going to do. Once Kenny knows I’m gone…well, I don’t know what he’ll do. But we have to have a plan.”

Erwin’s thumb slips up to pinch Levi’s. “We’ll leave the city. First thing tomorrow, we’ll pack what we can and go.”

“Go where?”

“Anywhere you’d like.”

“I can’t decide that. I don’t know anything about the world beyond the city.”

“You don’t need to. Tell me what your version of paradise is, and I’ll do my best to fulfil it.”

“That’s ridiculous. This isn’t some cutesy fairytale.”

“Tell me anyway. Indulge me.”

To show how totally absurd he thinks the idea is, Levi lets out a lengthy sigh before answering. “I don’t care. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit everywhere.”

“Fresh air, of course. And somewhere uncrowded, I assume?”

“That’d be nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a place like that.”

“Well,” Erwin starts, pecking a kiss against Levi’s scalp before continuing. “I’m sure we can find someplace like that. I know several fishing towns that border the coast, or farming villages farther inland. We’ll travel until we find something that makes us happy.”

“That’s careless. We’re going to burn through our funds in a week just trying to get around.”

“I promise you, we have quite a safe cushion financially. We can go for some time without work.”

“What a damn luxury,” Levi grumbles. He’s never been acquainted with overflowing wealth before. “Well, don’t get careless about it. I’d hate for both of us to end up worse off than how I started.”

“I’m sure you won’t let it come to that, love.”

Levi’s the first to wake. Pinned under Erwin’s arms, he jolts out of a nightmare and squints at the faint grey of morning light colouring the translucent curtains. That’s it for his slumber, then; there’s no hope of trying to crunch in another hour or so of sleep.

He stays warm under the blankets, listening to Erwin’s low, grumbling breaths and stewing in his own thoughts. Time creeps by, the morning approaching, but Levi elects to ignore any sense of urgency and simply let the day progress. They will need to go soon—they’ll scamper out of the city like mice chased by a gnashing bulldog. There’s no promised future for them out there, but they’re going to stay on the run until they’re safe.

To guarantee safety for two people seems nearly impossible to comprehend, leading Levi to wonder how Erwin managed to accomplish it for all the occupants of the House. Levi only hopes they’re going to thrive, wherever they are.

When Levi hears a distant bell tower and the following noise of early risers filling the street in their commute to work, he figures the day ought to start for them too. The longer they dawdle, the more likely it is that Kenny will be able to track them down once he sees a missing nephew and an empty House.

He sits up and clutches the arm that’s splayed across his lap. “Erwin.”

The blond beast doesn’t move. Levi envies his talent for heavy sleep.

“Erwin, wake up.” He shoves the heel of his hand into Erwin’s temple, roughly nudging the eyes beneath it open. “Come on.”

Erwin twitches, jerks his head back instinctively, then winces as he begrudgingly gains consciousness. “Hm?”

“We need to wake up,” Levi repeats.

“Is something happening?” He peers at the window as if he expects to see the sky falling.

“Not yet—but it will soon. It’s morning. We need to go before Kenny realises what’s going on.”

“Ah.” Marginally less rushed to move, Erwin takes his time in blinking the dreariness out of his eyes. “Of course, we’ll leave today—”

“Now, Erwin. We have to leave now. Kenny’s got your address in the directory, doesn’t he? I’m sure he’ll check where you live once he checks the House.”

“Yes, he may.” Tugged by Levi’s anxiety, Erwin heaves himself up to a sitting position, his back hunched and his head dropped. “Let’s get dressed. I have an outfit for you in the wardrobe—something to look nice while we travel.”

“Thank you.” Testing something new, and thus performing rather awkwardly, Levi gingerly cups Erwin’s jaw before planting a quick, timid kiss on his cheekbone. He leaps off the bed as soon as his lips leave contact, like he must run away from the risky stunt he pulled.

Erwin only grins to himself as he watches Levi open the wardrobe. Levi is not a remarkable kisser by any means, but Erwin is still astounded by the gumption he employed in demanding a multitude of kisses last night. Erwin may bring the experience, but often it is Levi that provides the undeniable initiative.

Within a second, Levi has snatched the outfit left for him and vanished into the bathroom. Erwin senses his urgency and tries to convince himself to mimic it. Levi is right—it’s dangerous to spend too much time in the city. Kenny could be awake right now, rounding up a force of vicious police officers to terrorise the House.

Somehow, Levi has fit himself into his clothes and reappeared with a freshened face and combed hair and Erwin has still yet to move. Instead, the blond languidly takes some pleasure in the living artwork that’s just transformed: Levi wears the same fine clothing he wore when Nile and Kenny came the first time, only now the look is complete with a sleek tailcoat atop the waistcoat and button-up. He looks downright dashing, especially when he fidgets with his cravat or tsks at a fold in his sleeve.

“Erwin,” he stresses, his perfect face aflame with irritation. “We need to go.”

Snapping out of his admiration, Erwin pushes himself to the edge of the bed. “Of course. I apologise.”

“Apologise by hurrying up. It’s—shit, what time is it?”

Erwin isn’t particularly sure. He takes the suit he left out for himself and claims the bathroom next, activating the various parts of his brain one at a time.

When he’s done, he lumbers downstairs to find the four trunks he packed waiting by the door and the floor cleaned of their mischief from last night. Levi idles in the entryway, not even interested in breakfast and stuck waiting impatiently for his partner.

“About time. I was considering leaving you behind.”

“That’d be cruel,” Erwin hums in faux sorrow. “Are you certain about rushing out so fast? Shouldn’t we at least eat something?”

Levi folds his arms across his chest. “Oh, right, so we’ll at least go to jail with a full stomach when Kenny comes for us. We need to go, Erwin. I can’t keep pushing it back any longer.”

The worry emanating off Levi is almost palpable; Erwin feels his own heart tremor under such intensity. He comes to Levi, taking one small hand for himself, and feels the way it tenses between his palms.

“We’ll go,” Erwin promises. “Everything will be okay so long as we stay together. Do you believe that?”

Levi frowns at his encased hand. “I believe…that I care about you. I know that I do. But I…well, I can’t really think about that when we’re worrying about our safety. We need to get out of here and find someplace where…” He trails off, his panic faster than his words. Clenching Erwin’s hand, he forces out a sigh. “Where I have the freedom and safety to think about how much I love you. It—it’s fucking sappy, but I mean it. The sooner we run, the sooner we can enjoy this new…thing—us. Love. All of that.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Erwin lifts the tensed knuckles to lightly kiss them.

Levi just gives an eye roll in response. “I could threaten to cut your head off and you’d be happy to hear that.” He misses Erwin’s touch as soon as his partner detaches to pick up trunks, but he does not voice that. “You’re stubborn enough to believe we’ll find a happy ending, so I have no choice but to follow you.”

“I’m glad you are.” Erwin works the door open, leaving it unlocked for the landlord to access once they’re vacated. “I’m already happy with you near me. It’s my goal now to bring you the same joy—or even more.”

“You insufferable romantic,” Levi grunts as he snatches up suitcases. “Make sure you keep that mushy mouth shut on the streets.”

“Duly noted.” Erwin allows Levi to pass under him before following behind, trusting his partner to lead their first few steps out of the city.

Leaving Erwin’s old home, they walk with a careful gap between them as they make their way to the main street. Levi’s gaze is fixed forward, though he is not blind to the glances Erwin repeatedly throws at him. He grips the trunks’ handles tightly, a thumbnail digging into the material, and he wonders how Erwin is able to be so nonchalant about this. The man truly goes stupid when in love, Levi figures.

They find a growler carriage within a few minutes, where Erwin begins negotiating fares for transportation to the nearest railroad station while Levi heaves four trunks atop the body of the carriage. He slips inside as soon as he’s done, waiting for his partner to finish business outside.

There’s a clear sigh of relief when Erwin shuts himself in the carriage and the vehicle takes off, clattering through the streets. They’re not free yet, but they’ve made a start.

“Do you fancy a trip to the House before we leave the city?”

“Hell no.” Levi pushes himself into the corner of the cab, hiding from the line of sight of the windows. “There was never anything for me at that place.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Side-eyeing his ex-Master, and his latest reason for life, Levi amends his statement. “Never any thing, but there was someone. And he’s already here. So don’t get all pouty if I reject the House.”

“Oh, I’m not upset. I, too, have no love left for that place.” Erwin doesn’t conceal himself, almost tempted to be closer to his partner even at risk of an audience outside the carriage. “Come closer. We have a long journey—it wouldn’t hurt to hold each other while we wait.”

“People will see us, dumbass.” Though, Levi does wish the carriage had curtains so they could indulge.

“Only if they’re making a deliberate effort to look inside the carriage.” Erwin offers a hand, one docile enough that assures Levi he doesn’t have to accept if he does not want to. “Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad if a few passersby noticed how absolutely lucky I am to be with you.”

Levi huffs, eyeing the hand as if it were a bear trap. “You’ve always been the type to show off.”

“Absolutely, when it came to sexuality. Now, though, I would like to boast my love, even if just a little. Would that be alright with you?”

Levi grasps the hand, feathering it loosely, before pushing himself close to Erwin, tucking his shoulder under Erwin’s. “Fine. Hold me. Just…keep an eye on the window. Make sure nobody’s staring.”

“I will.” Erwin puts his cheek against Levi’s scalp, his half-lidded eye lazily sliding over to watch the thoroughfare beyond. “Thank you, angel.”

Levi’s already nailed a temple to Erwin’s clavicle, telling the whole world to ignore his needy craving for Erwin’s warmth. Just let me, he begs of the forces around him. Just let it be us.

Erwin feels his digits be lifted and stroked lazily, Levi messing with the large hand he’s gotten to claim as his entertainment for the journey. He’s aflutter like a teenage boy as Levi interlaces their fingers, squeezes his palm, spreads his fingers, and finds a dozen different ways to interact with this appendage of his lover. His watchful eye grows weary and he succumbs to the lull of the rattling carriage, letting his eyelids close and trusting the world to accept their heinous display without exacting punishment on them.

Levi figures his partner wouldn’t last long as lookout, but he’s already appointed himself the role long before he suggested Erwin take it on. His scan is more vigilant, kept sharp and ceaseless, but he doesn’t mind. It keeps half his mind occupied—the other half busy crossing and uncrossing Erwin’s fingers—and it gives him the privilege of protecting his lover for once. Even just as a watchman, he feels proud to care for Erwin like this.

The carriage escorts the sodomites through the swamp of bigoted society, cutting through the filth to deliver them to greener pastures. Levi pushes out an exhale, telling himself that it is acceptable to relax just for a moment and embody the same dogged faith that seems to be dripping off Erwin. Everything will be okay, he promises, as if he already knows the future. Levi wants to trust that—he wants nothing more than to find a heaven alongside his saviour. Such a place has never existed for the street cat; he’s reluctant to believe it’s possible now.

But if the Master of the Magnolia House finds merit in throwing his life away to start fresh, Levi figures wherever they go must be better than where they started. If the wealthy sinner believes in joy, then the child of the streets ought to as well. They’re reduced to two vagrants with sheer survival on their minds, but they are two vagrants together. Erwin is no longer perched alone on a glimmering throne, and Levi has found a cornerstone that inspires him to continue living his life with honest purpose. They’ve abandoned their old selves, leaving them to rot in empty playrooms and filthy streets.

Baptised, Levi wants to consider himself deserving—even if just barely—of a life beside Erwin.

Chapter Text

It is such a perfect, simple routine for Levi. The needle pierces the spine of the folded folio, disappearing under the sheets until his dexterous fingers align it to reemerge on the other side of the cord, then it shifts over a centimetre to repeat the process. In it goes, back out it comes, around the cord it’s looped, and then it starts again. It took him half a day to learn this technique a few months ago, and ever since he’s been delightedly acquainted with his work.

It eases his mind, soothing him into a simple lull of nothing but sewing pages while the world lumbers on around him.

What is not so pacifying, and in fact is cracking his focus like a pebble against a window, is his handsome blond coworker and those annoyingly perfect blue eyes ogling him shamelessly. Across the workshop and leaning against the windowsill, Erwin is doing nothing but watching with a juvenile grin on his lips.

Levi flicks a quick, stabbing glance his way. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Erwin tosses his shoulders up in a lazy shrug. “Not until you’re finished sewing. This one is our last commission for today.”

“Then you could at least get started on cleaning up the shop. We shouldn’t dawdle—we need to get home and freshen the place up.” Like a machine, Levi fits the next folio gathering atop its family and aligns the needle to pierce the new addition.

“Russell and the others won’t arrive until the evening.” Parting with the image of Levi for a brief moment, Erwin turns his gaze to the outdoors and scans the bright sky overhead. “We have plenty of time until then.”

He’s right: there’s never been a need to hurry since they came here. Days pass like a gently cantering horse, the two men freely following along with them. They work good hours for pay that, while modest, is enough to support their humble lifestyle.

Without a rebuttal, Levi closes his mouth and directs all his attention back to his fingers. In and back out, the needle moves.

Once the whole body of pages is attached to the cords, Levi snips the excess with shears before handing the floppy flesh of a soon-to-be book to Erwin. Now that his partner is finally assigned a task, Levi makes it his own duty to start cleaning their tools and sweeping the floors.

Erwin had little patience for sewing when they started out; he took more easily to the tasks that didn’t require precision and meticulousness. Thus, it’s his duty to vice the bound pages deep between two vertical slabs of the laying press and run a plough across its fore edge, shaving the rough fringes down to a clean border. The plough moves fast under Erwin’s movement, thin strips of paper spitting out as it zips back and forth.

Levi sees the new mess forming beneath the laying press, noting to sweep there as soon as Erwin is finished. While lazily unfolding the damp washcloth he retrieved, he entertains himself with the spectacle of Erwin running the plough. It’s quite magnificent to see the muscles in Erwin’s back purl underneath his white shirt, his biceps thick and suffocating within his folded sleeves. It’s easy for Levi to picture himself on the laying press instead, Erwin using a similar motion to thrust roughly into his backside.

Dismissing the daydream with a guilty huff, Levi comes to his sewing frame and wipes down the wooden rods and screws. They’ve bantered about having sex in the workshop before, but neither man has the level of disrespect necessary to taint the honest, respectable, and historic business they work for. They’ll save their lust for the privacy of their home.

While gathering spare threads to discard, Levi listens to the rhythmic thuds of Erwin tapping the book’s spine with a hammer. They often work in a harmonious silence, sometimes starting small conversations when it pleases them and otherwise content to simply exist near each other. Their employer occasionally comes in, bringing a new set of freshly printed pages or a crate of supplies, though he trusts their diligence and rarely has to check on them beyond that.

The establishment has no other employees—until Levi and Erwin came, the bindery was run by a lone man dedicated to keeping traditional methods of bookbinding alive. Erwin charmed him with extensive knowledge of literature and history, Levi gave an impressive display of diligent and flawless work, and the couple was hired to continue a legacy that the elderly owner was struggling to maintain in his age. They were and are fortunate for their occupation, and the population of their small town came to appreciate the two newcomers that were relatively amiable and respectful in everything they did.

“I’ll sweep, if you’d like to lace the board.” Erwin sets the pages by thin boards waiting to cover them, presenting the task to Levi.

“How generous,” Levi scoffs. “Offering another task you hate doing?”

“Hate is extreme,” Erwin hums. “Though I won’t deny I struggle with threading those stubborn cords.”

Levi passes under him and pointedly sits at the worktable, picking up the materials. “You would actually improve your craft by doing it, you know.”

“Mm, maybe. Fortunately, I have a kind husband who handles the work I don’t prefer.” Erwin bends down to kiss Levi’s scalp, runs fingers through his hair, then steps away to take up the broom.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Even so, Levi has to hold himself still for a few moments to allow the heat in his cheeks to dissipate.

Erwin sweeps as thoroughly as Levi had taught him, taking the broom across surfaces several more times than he would’ve normally bothered. They have no overseer, and the owner that does exist is hardly around, yet somehow Levi has slipped into a vague role of supervisor between the two of them. He knows the tools best, he’s always particular about the process and—for better or worse—his reading education is still in progress, so he’s less likely to get caught up in reading the books’ contents as Erwin often has. Erwin takes Levi’s instructions in this shop, though most everywhere else Levi prefers to be the follower.

Levi sews headbands into the book’s short spine edges, bridging the space between the boards. The loose ends of string are smushed against the spine with wet adhesive paste, then the book is set in a paper press and squished underneath a wooden panel. The book is close to completion, though he’ll save the actual cover for tomorrow.

“It’s done for now. Tomorrow, you can work on tooling the cover once I cut it out and paste it against the book.” Levi takes back his cloth and wipes down the workbench, scrubbing off globs of drying paste.

“Oh, I’m delegated to tooling? You know I’m clumsy with those finicky gold leaves.” Erwin opens the rear door of the shop and sweeps his gathering out onto the porch.

“You’re even worse with paring straight lines through leather.” Sidling up to his partner, Levi’s eyes inspect every inch of the floor to check Erwin’s work. “Improve your tooling before you start on practising paring leather. It’s way easier to hide beginner mistakes in one versus the other.”

With a grin, Erwin pushes the last clump of dust outside and shuts the door. “Certainly, sir.”

“Quiet,” Levi grunts, trailing behind his partner as he moves to the entryway of the shop.

They leave the workshop after closing all windows and locking the front door, finishing their shift far earlier than usual. Mr. Bennett permitted it, citing their remarkable work ethic as reason enough to give them time off whenever they desired. Even with just two new men, the quaint workshop completes commissions with much greater efficiency than before.

The workshop is a bit of a walk from their home, but they gladly make the trek every morning and evening. At midday, the cliffside village flutters with light activity, its streets far emptier than the cramped alleys of the city. Men on horseback trot by the couple, sometimes guiding new farm animals behind them, while women walk together to retrieve their children from the town’s only schoolhouse. Erwin’s worked there on occasion, assisting with teaching when the usual instructor fell sick or offering to retrieve new schoolbooks the next time he took a trip to the city.

Levi never joins him, wary of the city like it’s been infected with a contagious plague. He’d rather stay behind and help the farmers till soil, hoping the entire time that Erwin will not run into the law while he’s away. He hasn’t yet, to their blessed relief, and even the informal watchmen of the cliffside town are oblivious to any warnings of suspicious men from the Metropolitan Police. Either the town’s watchmen go unrecognised by the MPs, or they’re too indifferent to the politics of the city to heed their edicts.

The few watchmen Erwin has met are vastly different than the types of men Nile and Kenny were. They’re gentle when they speak, they smile often, and they look at Erwin and Levi the same way they would anyone else. Even though Erwin sees their eyes glance at the matching silver bands on either man’s ring finger, he’s astonished to see them say nothing and simply bid the gentlemen good day.

The smallest symbol of connection had been a momentous step for the couple, one that continues to gnaw at Erwin every passing day. Levi seems indifferent to the display, though Erwin often catches him thumbing the ring incessantly whenever he’s anxious. Erwin took caution in the jewellery at first, sometimes turning his hand to a certain angle to hide the shimmering silver, though as time passed and no rumours were spread, he settled into wearing the band with muted pride.

Should they be questioned, they can easily claim to have wives elsewhere. A useless lie, considering most townsfolk witness them walking home together to a house that’s only owned by them. It is fortunate that they have never needed to employ a fake tale to explain their closeness or their wedding bands.

After a trip to the village shop, Erwin and Levi take the path where the buildings begin to thin and the land sprawls out for the dozen or so houses sprinkled around it. The home they share is farthest from the rest, put aptly distanced away from the town and closest to the seaside cliff the village rests on. It’s a short walk from their back porch to the cliff’s edge, atop which they have spent many evenings lounging with their bare feet dangling over the high, jagged rock face and breathing in the smell of brine wafting from the crashing waves far below. The wind is soft here, the air misted and cool. Levi’s grateful for the environment every time he steps outside.

“They’ll be here soon.” Erwin holds the door open for Levi, as he usually does despite Levi’s complaints, and hands him the sack of produce they purchased an hour ago. “I’ll set to work on the mutton. Put together a basket for them—I believe we have a spare wicker basket in the closet from Mrs. Ferrier.”

“Of course.” Levi leaves their groceries on the dining table, then leaves to the bedroom to find a suitable container for their gift.

Erwin begins by boiling water to prep the waiting slab of meat along with laying out an assortment of vegetables to add to the feast. Meals this nice are rare, but he tries to treat guests well whenever they come. With time to kill, he sits at the dining table and withdraws the single letter they received at their post office.

“Levi,” he says as his husband emerges from the bedroom. “We have a letter from Titus.”

“Good. I’m amazed he hasn’t fallen overboard yet.” Levi puts his eyes only on the clean oranges, apricots, and pouches of cherries he’s loading into the basket, ignoring eye contact with the letter. “Can you read what it says to me?”

“I can.” They’ve done this routine before, and hardly ever does Erwin fail at coaxing his student into an impromptu lesson. “But I’m sure you can just as well.”

Sinking his brow, Levi wedges a new set of bound silverware he purchased a few days ago in between two oranges. “Not just as well. We’ll get through it a lot faster if you read it.”

“What’s the rush? It’s lovely to take our time consuming our colleague’s stories, is it not?” Erwin unfolds the paper and lays it plainly on the table, then rises from his chair to open it for Levi. “Come read this letter for me, Levi.”

Tonguing his canine, Levi shoots an offensive stare at the paper. “Titus uses big words too often. It’s a pain to read his stuff.”

“You’ll never learn without giving larger vocabulary a try. It’s just a matter of phonetics—exactly as I taught you. There’s no word here you can’t read.”

“But—”

“If you’d prefer, we can wait until Russell and the others arrive.” Erwin drifts behind him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure they’d love to hear you read off Titus’s words for them.”

“You wouldn’t make me do that,” Levi dares, shuddering at the thought of stumbling over his words in front of his mates.

“How certain are you of that?”

With his lips set in a thin line, Levi considers the length of Erwin’s determination and concludes that he couldn’t hold a candle to it. Sometimes, it’s damn annoying to have a lover and a teacher in the same person, especially when that person is remarkably talented in bending a subordinate to his will.

But Levi takes pleasure in their battles. Erwin has threatened him with worse, subjecting him to cruel punishments of deprivation or overstimulation for failing to practise his handwriting or forgetting an item on the grocery list he was required to memorise. They agree to these systems often: setting new terms that they both consent to, often with a reward or punishment on the other side. It feels good to Levi to be challenged by Erwin and his mighty wit, and it feels just as fantastic to receive pleasure when it is so appropriately deserved.

If he quits bitching and reads the letter, there’s a good chance his husband will reward him. Keen on earning it, and also avoiding punishment, Levi takes a seat in front of the paper.

“Good boy.”

The fingers he uses to pick up the paper clench into the parchment. He shoves out a sigh.

“Dear Erwin and Levi.” That line is the easiest. He’s seen and heard it numerous times before, and there are no two words he knows better than their names.

The blocks of text beneath it intimidate him, even more so with Erwin’s broad shadow looming over him. He trains his eyes on the first letter and begins picking apart the words.

“I pray this let-ter finn-des—finds you well.” It takes time, but the student works through longer words and corrects words he’s heard and spoken before. “I’ve come to dowb—doubt the…the re-lie-ab—reliability of sho-reh-side—shoreside post offices.”

Two whole sentences down. This work is grating on Levi, far less enjoyable than the simplicity of sewing pages. He would’ve never continued with this if Erwin wasn’t such a persistent teacher.

“Very good,” Erwin praises. “Keep putting together each syllable when the word is longer. You’ll start catching on to syllable combinations soon.”

“Yeah, well—”

“No. Keep reading, Levi.”

Stuck under a firm instructor, Levi takes a few seconds to find his spot again. “At this rate, I may find more suck-ess—success—why the hell do they spell these words that way—”

“Focus.”

“—success in de-live-ring…de…de-live…”

“Almost. Split up the syllables differently. Remember that ‘ing’ is a suffix added on. What word do we start with if it's not there?”

Levi tries that approach. “De-live-er? De-liv-er. Deliver—delivering.”

“There. Perfect. Try the sentence again.”

“At this rate, I may find more success delivering my mess-ages by bottles toss-ed—tossed into the sea.”

Erwin’s grin is damn stupid, but it always takes over his face when he watches Levi read. It thoroughly warms his heart to watch Levi try, to see his husband fight through the world of literacy that’s emerged as his greatest adversary. Levi is a determined man with unshakable resolve, and even in a situation as simple as sounding out words, it’s glorious to watch him fight.

For several minutes, Levi runs his thumb underneath each word he reads aloud, tripping over words with abnormal pronunciations or often putting together syllables poorly. Erwin silently reads with him, waiting for him to reach the end of a sentence before he skims the next one.

April weather has been kind to the Cheviot, with only a few light storms hitting us. There is nothing to do during those downpours but write to my mates, so this may be one of many more letters to come.

I do miss the House. I spend many nights craving the warmth of good gin while my mates share stories around me. I can only hope that you both have ended up as happy or happier than we were back then.

Levi, please continue to take care of Erwin. More importantly, put down your worries and rest often. I picture you hiding the weight of heavy concern you burden yourself with, as you so often did in the House. Allow yourself the right to be lazy. You deserve leisure and happiness now.

Erwin, my former Master and employer, I hope your new life is allowing you to flourish in a way you rarely have before. I can never forget the earnest look in your eyes as you took down the House, and it is a small dream of mine to discover the same satisfaction you seem to have found in Levi. I need not tell you to treat him well, as I’m sure you endeavour to do so every day.

Though society finds us three sinful, I know there are no men with more grace than the two of you. When I return, I look forward to reconnecting with you, wherever you have ended up.

Until then, my friends, I will keep you in my thoughts.

With utmost regards,

Titus Pavlidis

Levi drops the paper as soon as he’s done, taking in a big inhale like he finished a strenuous workout. Almost immediately he’s embraced by Erwin from behind, caught in large arms that hug him tightly.

“Very good, angel. You did wonderfully. Think about how much longer it took you to read the collection of fables two weeks ago; you’ve made remarkable progress in that time.”

“Maybe I’m sick of reading children’s stories,” Levi replies, covering up how utterly embarrassed he is to be praised for what should be a common talent.

“Then I’ll assign you the works of the Bronte sisters next week. They’ll assuredly introduce you to the full range of the English language.”

“Fantastic.” Though, Levi wishes he had kept his mouth shut just once. He’s not excited about chipping away at enormous paragraphs like he just had to do.

Erwin plants a kiss on Levi’s cheek, even as his husband shrivels like a grumpy cat. “This won’t go unrewarded. Let’s tend to our guests—they’ll be here any minute—then I’ll give you what you deserve for your hard work. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Erwin.”

Erwin moves to start a kettle, finding appropriate tea leaves from the rather extraordinary collection they own. He transfers the slab of mutton to the boiling pot and checks his pocket watch to start a mental timer.

Levi puts a few jam jars in the basket, then three bars of soap. Merchandise made by the locals and crafted with far more care than the businesses of the city. Levi could name the exact shop and worker that provided each fruit, cutlery, and toiletry he gathered for his guests.

He lifts his head a second before they hear a knock at the door. “Finally,” Levi breathes with more delight than usual as he drifts to the entrance.

“Levi,” Russell greets warmly as the door is opened for him. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well.” Levi instinctually puts out a hand to stop the smaller guest trying to slip past Russell and barge into the home. “Shoes, Jules. Don’t track dirt on Erwin’s fancy new carpet—you’ll make him cry.”

Snickering, Jules picks up Levi’s hand and plants a grinning kiss on his knuckles. “Sure thing, Levi! Thanks for having us over.”

“Don’t make me regret it, rascal.”

Jules toes their shoes off as Russell makes way for Chester, the last of the trio to shuffle inside. “Levi, good afternoon,” he says as he politely slips out of his boots.

“Afternoon, Chester. I can take that suitcase to your bedroom upstairs if you’d like.”

“That’d be great.” Chester hands over the hefty case holding enough supplies for three people on their short trip. “Is Erwin in?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen. Hand me your coats, too.” Levi scoops up the tailcoat Russell offers him, opening a nearby closet to store it. “Erwin, open some windows! That steam is going to heat up the whole house.”

“Erwin!” Chester echoes as he hurries through the living space, finding the dining room and the kitchen beyond it. “You look great, Erwin! How have you been?”

Elsewhere, the two chat. Russell puts Jules’ haphazard shoes in a neat line beside his while Jules loosens the multitude of buttons running down their long, draping overcoat. “Levi, look,” they boast as they shed the garment. They wear a simple dress, one composed of sky blue cotton with lace hems and a frilly white neckline. It has a slight cinch at the waist, but is otherwise homely and modest. “I made this!”

“You made that?”

“Yeah! I became an apprentice for a seamstress a few blocks from our flat. She gives me leftover materials—Russell even bought me some tools to work at home.” They dig through the pockets of their overcoat as they talk, searching for something. “Soon, I’ll make all sorts of dresses and suits for clients. I’ll finally bring in some money.”

“That’s pretty good work,” Levi compliments, and he honestly means it. “Well done, Jules.”

“Here.” Jules hands him a folded cloth, its adornment facing up. “I made this for you.”

It’s an embroidered handkerchief, bordered with eloquently sewn edges and a single initial near its corner. The letter L is sewn in script with deep navy threads, floral decorations hugging it. None of the depicted flowers are specifically magnolias, but in fairness they are too small to really assign a species to.

“It’s not much,” Jules says. “But I’m trying my hand at embroidery. I hope you like it.”

Levi looks up from the gift and, for just a few fleeting moments, lets a small, honest smile play across his lips. “It’s pretty, Jules, and very thoughtful. Thank you.”

With a grin triple the size of Levi’s, Jules giddily picks at the threads of their coat. “You’re—you’re very welcome! I’m glad you like it!”

“Of course I do. Go say hi to Erwin already—make sure he’s not burning the mutton or something.”

Dismissed, Jules drops off their coat and scampers to the kitchen where they enter the conversation, quieting the space where Levi and Russell remain.

“You’re welcome to join them,” Levi says, putting his smile away. “I’ll put your things upstairs.”

Russell passes the staircase Levi ascends and comes to the kitchen, crowding the space with far more bodies than its usual capacity. He accepts the hand Erwin offers, smiles kindly at his ex-Master, and asks about his health.

Jules and Chester are given tools and ingredients to join the crew of chefs, following Erwin’s instructions—which were originally Levi’s instructions—on how to skin potatoes and chop carrots. Russell squeezes by them to take the boiling kettle, moving it to the teapot with leaves waiting inside.

When Levi comes back, Russell has relocated to the small table out on the back porch, the tea set with him. Drawn to the fresh brew, and encouraged by Erwin, Levi steps outside and joins Russell at the table he’s often shared with Erwin.

“It’s tortuous to come back here,” Russell says wistfully. “It makes me miss this view every time I leave.”

Levi sits on an iron-wrought chair, his gaze drifting across the horizon. The empty grassland stretches out until it stops abruptly at the cliff’s edge, beyond which the ocean glitters with the reflection of the evening sun.

“You’re welcome to move out here,” Levi suggests, crossing his legs. “There’s other cottages along the cliff.”

“I can’t.” Russell takes the teapot and pours a serving into Levi’s cup. “Jules and Chester are thriving—Chester’s just been offered a position as an illustrator for a nearby publishing house. And Jules loves their mentor—they’re quite passionate about dressmaking. I want them to keep working on their craft in the city.”

“Fair enough.” Levi grips the cup, the steam kissing his palm. “Have you gotten what you want?”

“Yes, I’m content,” Russell assures. “I make good money at the club and the three of us live well together. Sometimes we go shopping, or drink, or take holidays. Making sure they’re okay…I think that’s gratifying enough for me.”

“It’s good that you’re there for them.” Levi drinks. He’s relieved to know Russell and his family are still doing well—he worried for any courtesan that was left behind in the hunting grounds of the law. “You know you can always come here if something bad happens.”

“Of course.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the distant crash of waves and the muffled chattering of the chefs inside. Memories of the past seem to stir between them, but bothering to address them would be trivial.

Instead, Russell glances at the glowing band on Levi’s finger. “I see you’ve exchanged vows, Mr. Smith.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“You didn’t take his surname?”

“I…” Levi loses his words when looking at the ring, still unsure of what etiquette he wants to adhere to. Months have passed since they were wed, yet he’s never committed to all customs of a marriage. His surname, even now, is undecided. “My name is Levi. That’s…all that’s important right now.”

“Certainly.” Russell doesn’t push him on the matter. “Was there a ceremony?”

“Hardly. We got our bands engraved before taking a trip to the mountains up north. A gazebo we found worked just as well as any damn church.”

“Just you two?”

“Of course. I don’t need someone else to do a ceremony and tell me I’m married.”

“I’m sure Erwin told you numerous times while you were bent over the gazebo’s railing.”

“Shut up,” Levi rasps under Russell’s chuckle. “He’s a show-off, but he wouldn’t risk that.”

“Either way, it’s lovely to see you two wed. Gives some hope for the rest of our kind.”

Levi scoffs. “Erwin and I aren’t idols at all, much less crusaders. We ran away and hid in the middle of nowhere like cowards.” He tilts his gaze to Russell. “I wouldn’t call what we did inspiring.”

Russell reflects his look, though his eyes are soft with a sort of pleased contentment. “You found a way to be happy—that’s a better rebellion than most protests or wars.”

The thought pokes at Levi’s mind. “Hm.”

“Le-vi!” Jules sings as they crack open the rear door. “Mr. Erwin said we can start eating!”

“Once you set the table,” Erwin’s voice reminds from inside.

“Once I set the table.” Remembering the task they were given, Jules disappears right away.

Sighing, Levi stands and moves to take the tea set’s tray before Russell stops him.

“Let me,” his ex-coworker requests. “Go ahead and get settled inside.”

Levi yields, coming back into the home and taking a place at the dining table they’ve borrowed from a neighbour to hold five occupants. Their usual table is far too small.

Within minutes, the five are seated on either side of the rectangle, nobody claiming the head. They receive portions, Levi the last to claim food, and eat ceremoniously while bantering about their joys and woes the past few months. On Levi’s right side, Erwin relishes a glass of wine and murmurs about the quality across the table to Russell while Levi and Chester compare how far their literacy education has come along. Jules joins in, boasting how fantastic their handwriting has become due to the attention to detail their sewing lessons have given them, but the artist opposite them dares to think his dexterity has left him with rather eloquent script. Levi can’t comment much; his handwriting quality is equivalent to that of a toddler’s in his eyes.

“Russell,” Erwin starts during a lull wherein Levi is serving slabs of mutton. “Has anything come of the House?”

“I haven’t been around to check on it,” he answers. “Though, the papers last week reported a remarkable commercial estate sold for higher than expected. The public auction started low, given the location, but some avant garde aristocrat bought out the competition with a hefty bid. The design and layout interested him, they said.”

Levi glances Erwin’s way, expecting to see a glimmer of intrigue in his eye, but he finds nothing of the sort. Erwin nods without emotion and speaks evenly. “The buyer’s name?”

“Anonymous. Almost like they knew what it used to be.”

“That’s what I said.” Chester points a fork at Russell. “I swear it has to be a previous client. I’m sure as soon as they heard that the former Magnolia House was being sold, they wanted to sweep up a little—well, a huge souvenir. I could name loads of chaps with enough money for that.”

The image of that place falling into the hands of a former client is irksome to Levi. It would take an individual with a certain level of eccentricity and wealth to claim the Magnolia House as theirs—Levi hates to admit who could fit that description.

“I don’t know if it’s been repurposed yet,” Russell continues. “Whoever bought it hasn’t made any grand announcements, and like I said, I haven’t been back.”

“No matter.” Erwin’s done with his line of questioning, content with the answers he’s received.

When they finish dinner, Chester and Russell take dishes to the kitchen while Jules shows Erwin their sewing kit and its eloquent contents. Levi paces the house, locking doors and closing windows as the sun sets beyond them. He takes a few minutes for himself, dressing for bed and idling in the privacy of his bedroom, before coming back to the living room where a young fire dances in the fireplace and the friends pick spots in the room to lounge.

Levi perches on the couch, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them, while Erwin drapes a single arm across his back. It’s perfect for the two of them, giving Erwin the physical touch he loves without making Levi uncomfortable by displaying excessive affection semi-publicly.

The gentlemen talk late into the night. Chester attempts to sketch the way Jules leans against the fireplace, but they move so often he gives up on that subject and tries again with Russell sitting leisurely in an armchair. Erwin asks about Jules’ mentor or the latest scandal Russell had at the gentlemen’s club and Levi listens to the conversations with half-lidded eyes resting on the dancing flames. He has little to say, but to exist among them is rather gratifying for him.

He finds it strange that this group of sinners is allowed to live so freely. They are condemned, rebuked, and hidden away, but that hardly seems to be the case when they’re smiling softly and enjoying a fire. He had to sell himself numerous times for this, and at the end of it all he’s been granted a life he wishes his mother could have known.

He recognizes that Erwin got his wish after all. Levi’s dedicated to sticking around a while longer, at least until he and Erwin grow old and find some way to be discreetly buried together. After that, he hopes he can introduce him to her—as long as sodomites and prostitutes end up in the same afterlife. She may already know him if she’s been granted the privilege to watch over her son.

Until then, he’s content in his place alongside Erwin. He does not know what he’s done to deserve this splendour, but the time for self-loathing has passed.

The men bid each other goodnight, the three guests going upstairs while the couple plods to their master bedroom. Levi takes Erwin’s hand for the short walk, lumbering along with genuine lethargy that has always eluded him until now. His days are incredibly productive, filled with every delightful domestic task and chore a street cat could dream of, and thus they always end with unique fatigue that he gladly welcomes.

He can feel functions in his body, drooping eyelids and sluggish steps, and he can finally acknowledge them properly. He doesn’t need to sleep lightly in fear of thieves, nor fend off harrowing thoughts of which client is scheduled the next day. In bed, his body is heavy and warm beside Erwin.

Levi is able to close his eyes, murmur a few words of love to his husband, and fall asleep without a single concern pricking at his mind.