Eren healed quickly. He could cut his finger and within 15 minutes there'd be barely a scratch left. He didn't get bruises. Even not from the 3D maneuvering gear. It hadn't exactly crossed his mind that it could even cause discomfort. Adrenalin pumped through his veins the moment it was used, all physical needs except survival were secondary. And once the high of fear and rage wore off, everything was back to normal.

The trainee squad didn't get to use the gear nearly as much as the Scouting Legion. Only now, when the fact was obvious, Eren realized this.

Bright violet and blue tones with underlying shadows of pale greenish and yellow marred white skin in strong, definite lines. More faded around the calves, angry and bright around thighs.

Eren swallowed thickly when he noticed a bruised hipbone, jutting out in a way it should sinfully not be allowed due to Corporal Levi's sleeping position.

He could only stare, transfixed on the sight before him, a sudden, uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. He felt like he was intruding, and it could last only for so long. His palms were feeling clammy.

The boy knew very well that he was intruding on something too private right now. Maybe it wouldn't even be so to Levi, but it was private to Eren, this somehow changed the whole dynamics of how he looked at the older man. Until now he had always seemed to be somewhere high up, untouchable, and superior; always protecting, objective.

Injuries were understandable, yes, everyone got them. Most were happy about scratches, twisted shoulders and ankles. It meant they weren't dead yet. But these weren't temporary injuries, you could see that Levi pretty much lived with these bruises, they could fade a bit, but as soon as he was back to work – so would the marks.

It only now hit Eren how vulnerable it made the other man look. Only now his short stature, even while sleeping, stood out. Levi's limbs probably hadn't seen sunlight in years; the uniform wasn't very forgiving for vitamin D. Face blissfully unaware and partly nuzzled into the pillow. Such petite hands, probably calloused to the touch, but so relaxed now. They looked bigger while holding weapons. His legs were slimmer than seemed in uniform.

Milky white. Deep purple.

He had to touch.

The thought ran through his spine, electrifying his body into movement. All the stealth lessons suddenly kicked in gear as his feet treaded ever so softly, thankful for stone floors that did not creak.

Would he wake up? Eren drew in a shaky breath, ready to make up an excuse about how deliriously exhausted Levi was, sleeping until noon that Hanji had to send him to do the deed of waking him. It wasn't even a lie.

Millimeters away from touching, he could feel the heat radiating from Levi's skin. The still deep, slow breathing assured Eren to press his fingers against the mesmerizingly marred surface. He carefully traced the lines, trying his best to ignore his own heart rate picking up and teenage hormones whispering debauchery from the gutters his subconscious.

Would it hurt if he pressed down? How hard would he have press, squeeze until it hurt enough for the sleeping man to rise?

Memories of Levi kicking him in the face, teeth flying and stars dancing behind his eyelids, flashed into his mind. For a split second he tasted phantom copper in his mouth. It would only be fair.

The pads of Eren's fingers pressed a bit harder against the skin for a bit before lightening again, trailing upwards and grazing his knuckles against the joint of Levi's knee, his leg jerking slightly. Eren froze for a moment. Ticklish behind his knees. It had completely caught him in a trance how human, warm and close suddenly had Levi become to him.

He slid his whole palm up the expanse of Levi's thigh before everything that was left of his resolve broke and he grabbed the bruised hip and relished in feeling the bone against his palm, nails sinking into soft skin harshly, pushing the other man onto his back.

"What the fuck…" Husky and quiet, with an undertone of pain. Eren's knee had ended up on Levi's bed and he was leaning over the older man, face inching closer.

"Jaeger?" Such sleepy, hazy softness. It was understandable. Levi hadn't exactly slept in well over a week before this.

He pressed his other hand against the pillow, too close to Levi's head for comfort, staring down at his Corporal. The movement woke Levi up more as pain had subsided since Eren was now rubbing feather-light, soothing circles against his bruised hip.

"You should call me Eren, Levi." He knew he'd pay hell for this. Or maybe it was all too shocking to the other man and he'd get away in one piece, without an impromptu titan transformation.

He already felt the tension building up in the body he was looming over, almost stirring to move, coiling to push him away.

Eren had mere seconds left to get out of there. And he wanted to do so much. This moment was so short, so fragile he nearly wanted to burst out crying from frustration. He had to inhale, touch, absorb.

"Come down, get something to eat. Hanji's worried." He managed to soften his voice, brushing a stray hair strand out of Levi's eyes, which were widening in surprise and then narrowing in anger.

Eren pulled back abruptly, by the time Levi had deduced that this was indeed reality and not a twisted dream and had sat up, Eren was leaning against the doorframe.

"The bruises, do they hurt?" He was already mid-turn on his heel. "Tell me during lunch." Perverse curiosity.

Levi couldn't get the smirk that Eren's lips had stretched in out of his head. Somehow he no longer looked like a fifteen year old brat. Either that or he himself was no longer the intimidating Corporal in Eren's eyes. Levi had goose bumps running up his arms. The suddenly chilly air was taking away the remains of warmth and touch.

"Fuck you, Eren."

A/N: It's been a while. Exams happened. My English is getting worse, oh man. I don't know about this. All my chaptered pieces are doomed and I probably would run out of ideas. But I like writing dark!Eren. Concrit is very, very welcome!