Chapter Text
The exchange of documents is meant to take place over a well mixed daiquiri at the poolside of the four seasons, Seychelles. An unnamed informant drops a USB stick on the striped lanchair and disappears into the resort without a second glance and Erwin Smith pockets it without so much as a blink.
It doesn’t quite go like that.
Erwin checks his watch. From where he is sat, with the pool in front of him and the seafront beyond, he can see the parked ANNA I, 3 million dollar yacht. It belongs to Antony Lovof, a fairly crooked type by all accounts. A British businessman, house of lords representative, with a penchant for funnelling funds through his arms broker business to less than savoury types. Mi6 had, for a very long time, had many tabs on Lovof international, though no particularly clear way through. However Shadis, the current head of Mi6; a wrung out, thin man, budding into middle-age unfavourably, had informed him of a leak on the inside. A willing participant to aid in Lovof’s undoing. And so, a secure location had been established, an agent dispatched and here Erwin sat. A petite waitress with her hair locked into a high ponytail offers him a glass of water in a highball glass, condensation dripping, which he accepts with a smile. He knocks his Ray - Bans back over his eyes and crosses his legs.
Lovof rarely leaves the yacht, or so Erwin has gathered from two mornings studying his movements from the balcony of his suite but he travels inland to meetings and dinners with men Erwin has seen on blacklists many times. The network is small in terms of players but vast in terms of reach, it’s claws in all major veins of power, impossibly hard to pin illegality on. Erwin despises it, he thinks with a wrinkle of his nose. Despises it almost as much as whatever cheap white rum they’ve put in his cocktail.
Lovof appears exactly at the time his informant said he would. A tender brings his staff in first, Erwin watches them mingle before the second boat docks with Lovof and his inner circle.
The hand ticks 2 o’ clock on his Vacheron Constantin and two men in dark polo shirts and beige slacks make their way from the billowing curtains of the atrium, Grach’s barely concealed on their hips. Lovof has an apathetic looking beauty on his arm, a slender thing holding a whisky, aviators over his eyes and sheer silk beach robe dripping off his frame, patterns with dragons that seem to fight one another for space across his back.
He can only be in his mid - twenties, not offensively young, though too young for Lovof. Erwin stares, because he can and because every man in eye shot is too. Lovof’s pulls his cargo shorts up his thighs as he sits down, cigar hanging from his lips as the brunette sits at the very edge of the deckchair, orchid white legs crossed and chin resting on his hand, he cuts the cigar, with delicate charm. His eyes meet Erwin’s for a second before he looks away, like he’s done something illicit.
If Lovof is trying to engage him, it’s not working and after a moment or so of one sided discussion, the black haired boy disrobes and heads to the water edge.
Erwin wonders how much he costs to keep. Likely a pretty penny for a creature like that. He watches his impeccable diving form as he hits the crystal blue water, barely makes a ripple in the otherwise empty pool. His ears catch the light when he resurfaces, diamonds, Erwin guesses from the angle.
The man rolls his shoulders and leans his arms across the warm ceramic, tilting his head to expose the lean line of his throat, the water rolling down the shadowed divots in time with the condensation on Erwin’s glass of water he finds himself suddenly needing.
Erwin watches the clumped tear shaped droplets on his eyelashes before said eyes open, landing on Erwin with surprising intensity. He was aware he was being watched, Erwin muses. Erwin should be careful who he stares at, you never want to get on the wrong side of your mark. He tilts his glass in greeting and gets a coquettish smile in return before the subtlest of eyerolls. The man takes off in a smooth, relentless freestyle down the pool and Erwin watches, watches until he realises, rather pathetically, far too late, that his informant has missed their drop time. It seems fairly irrelevant, however, in the face of Lovof’s sweethearts nape, as he hauls himself elegantly out the pool on the opposite end to Lovof himself. He shakes himself down, sweeping inky black hair out his eyes. Yes, espionage is a constant in Erwin’s life, whoever this is is not .
His trunks are fairly tacky Versace shorts, with a gold trim round his waist, hanging just where his hip bones jut. He’s small, maybe only 5”3, with tight, mousy features, a turned up aristocrats nose. He makes his way over to a little pyramid of towels with the type of walk that’s aware of the eyes on it. He towels his hair, brushes down his legs, saunters past Erwin towards the bar. A rustic hut with mahogany furnishings where he places himself.
The man’s eyes are flickering to him, even as he mouths his villa number to the barman and accepts a glass of something in return. It’s longing, Erwin realises, in his vacant grey gaze. He leans on his hand, brows slightly knit, cringing at the noises of Lovof and whoever he’s talking to. Well, on the idea that his informant is a bust, Erwin decides the next best course of action is infiltration. If he needs a way into Lovof’s inner circle, a way to gain the information he has yet to receive, he’s not afraid to buy a ravenette a drink to obtain it.
His shirt catches the wind as he stands, billowing the white cotton, cutting the Ralph Lauren polo player directly in half, as he slides onto a stool two over from the man.
He is silent, while Erwin orders, mouth covered by his hand as he leans on it and gaze on the undrunk highball of something berry coloured.
“I’ll have what he’s having” Erwin says and the bartender smiles, nods curtly and moves to busy himself.
“It’s grenadine” The man responds, though his gaze remains on nothing in particular. His voice is accentless, vaguely european, Erwin notes, but distinctly transatlantic. “Incase you wanted something with a kick” his lips wrap around the straw.
Erwin’s gaze doesn’t fall to it, he only smiles and takes out a box of cigarettes. “You don’t drink?”
“Only to excess” He says softly, his eyes splintering down the box as Erwin slides it between his fingers.
“Do you want one?”
The man blinks, rapidly and points a finger at a sign over his shoulder. “It’s a no smoking area”
“Well” Erwin lights it. “They’ll have to catch us first. Holidays?”
The man clears his throat, hands folding round his glass. “Business”
Erwin pouts, feigns a little ignorance. He offers the cigarette, he takes a hearty drag, eyes falling shut. “What do you do?”
“Not me” A slight grimace, the man kicks one dripping foot over his knee, shaking his head softly. “My -” he waves in Lovof’s general direction.
Erwin hums, takes a drag and offers it out to the other, he takes it with a murmured thanks and inhales, pushing the smoke out through his nose.
“Oh, I’ve seen him around” Erwin murmurs. “Congratulations” he adds, pointing his pinky towards the ring on the man’s left ring finger.
“Oh” The man wriggles it. “It’s a placeholder”
It’s a Cartier gold diamond, wrapped around his finger like a kiss. Erwin can’t think what it’s holding for.
“I want a fatter stone. '' The reflected pool light catches the little diamond as he holds it in front of himself. “Sapphires or something”
Erwin wants to tell him that a small diamond is worth more than a fat saphire, however he doesn’t seem the type to take that correction well. Besides, the man has clearly made a life of having very little between his ears. No, that’s unfair, Erwin thinks, as he watches the way the mid afternoon sun tracks the shadows on the man’s lean, muscled legs. He’s sure the man works hard at something.
“What’s your name?” Erwin asks while he reorders a drink from the barman, sliding his undrunk glass towards the man.
There is beat, the type of telling silence that means consideration before the man shrugs. “Levi”
“Levi?” Erwin prompts.
“Just Levi”
“Well, Just Levi , It’s a pleasure. Are you Jewish?” Israel perhaps, with a name like that and a well trained accent, if he spent enough time abroad somewhere.
“If you go back far enough, I’m sure” Levi drawls. He tucks his hair over his ear, eyebrow cocked. Erwin considers him from the corner of his eye. His age is incredibly hard to judge, his accent hard to place. If Erwin had remembered correctly Lovof had a wife, two in fact, one he left and one who died only half a year ago. Erwin can see, very easily in fact, how a creature like Levi could get a man to move on so fast. He might have had work, Erwin considers, by how little his temples seem to move and how completely unphased his face seems. Gold diggers do have a general aura of ennui. It’s what makes them so incredibly fuckable, he thinks mildly.
“And what did you do, before your engagement” His old fashioned, smoked under a bell jar, arrives. Erwin moves one seat over and Levi’s shoulders stiffen just a little.
“I was a cleaner” He says blandly, swirling his straw around the melting ice.
Erwin smiles as he takes a sip, orange twist bumping the bridge of his nose. “What did you clean?” He smacks his lips together as the sugar lines them, whisky soothing the back of his throat.
“Messes” Levi has a gold band around his ankle, an ornate little bangle that comes across more like a cuff than anything benign, it tinkles against the bar stool’s mahogany leg as he taps to an unheard beat. “Other peoples” and he offers no more information.
Oh Erwin can see it all now; a very gorgeous maid, an already strained marriage, an accident on a boat, just a few months later said maid is decked in diamonds and lounging on tropical beaches. A smart boy is likely what Levi is, an opportunist, the very best. Erwin hopes using him like this won’t come back to bite him.
“You seem fastidious” Erwin notes as Levi’s eyes dart with a wrinkled nose to where he’s placed his drink on the wood bar instead of his coaster.
“Yes,” Levi admits. “I guess I am” He clears his throat, gaze moving to where Lovof and his acquaintances are lounging. Carefully, he returns Erwin’s gaze. “And you are?”
“Smith” He offers his hand. “Erwin Smith”
Levi looks at his hand with that same unreadable, bored expression. His fingers curl into his palm for a moment, the only real indicator of his discomfort, before he slides his hand into Erwin’s. His fingers are like a pianist, long and delicate, his wrists full -circleable but yet, his forearms are built, his muscles all incredibly well kept. He’s panther-like, small and sleek. He’s a strange conundrum. His skin is chilled and damp from the water, comfortably so against the humid heat.
“Are you from London?”
“Only in accent,” He says and thinks not of boarding schools and Highland winds, nor of his Father’s final visits before he was forced to spend Christmases in cold empty dormitories and summers in an empty, blustery mansion. Not of that one year in Geneva, of his Dad’s smile or the Marché de la Fusterie at Christmas. No point considering the past. He drops Levi’s hand.
“Ah” Levi responds and leaves it firmly at that.
“And yourself?” Erwin asks, swirling the cocktail as Levi trails the condensation of his grenadine along the rim of the glass almost perfectly in time with how he licks his lips.
“I don’t go in for nationalism” He answers and then sighs. “A small island, you won’t have heard of it”
“You’re Coriscan?” Erwin muses, raises two fingers to order another. The bartender, smoothing a linen cloth around champagne glasses nods in affirmation.
Levi snorts, his lips twitching into an approximation of a smile. If he has had work, it’s severe enough his face doesn’t enjoy anything except apathy. Though Erwin’s more inclined to believe Levi has very little to smile about.
“No,” He smiles, or as close as he seems to be able to get. “Good guess, and are you here for work?”
“Pleasure” Erwin says and Levi’s ears go a very pretty rose. “Exclusively”
His lashes flutter but his back is very straight. He swallows, as though to steel himself and then turns. “You must think yourself very smooth, Mr. Smith. Though I’d appreciate a little more honesty. If you’re looking for an introduction to my fiance, I can’t get you one. He’d skin any man who he sees as a” Levi’s eyes drag across him, his light tan, his abs, dusky nipples and blonde hair, sharp features and constant smile. “Threat”
“Now, Just Lev i” He says, with a little tut. “You wound me”
“Unlikely” Levi answers swiftly, lifting his empty glass to seemingly do something with his hands. “My partner is an influential international merchant and you are clearly a businessman. I didn’t expect you’d talk to me for my riveting conversation”
“No, only for your exquisite beauty, actually” Erwin replies mildly and Levi’s cheeks flush across the freckles on his pale skin, he chokes a little on the dregs of his drink as he slams it back down on the coaster with a sharp inhale.
“You’re even the first man to try that on me today. I’m assuming this is on your tab. Good afternoon, Erwin Smith” He says, and makes to stand.
He only just catches Levi’s wrist, barely having to strain to pull him back, in fact Levi stumbles, with a barely repressed yelp, as Erwin steadies him. “Okay, well, I may or may not be a london trader hoping to make some powerful connections -”
Levi’s eyes dull, his head shaking ever so softly.
“ But, but” Erwin says, then lower, into the shell of Levi’s ear. “I have an undrunk bottle of Dom Perignon sitting very lonely in my villa and no-one to enjoy it with”
“Champagne goes straight to my head” Levi says, although his breath is very tight.
“Well yes, that’s the intention” Erwin smooths a lick of pool water out of the indent of Levi’s collarbone “I’ll have you safely returned for your bedtime. You can even have an ibuprofen, to stall the effects, hm?”
“I’m not charmed by you,” Levi says although there is too much protest in his voice to ring true.
“No, of course not,” Erwin says. There is that longing in Levi’s steel grey eyes again, a longing for freedom, or excitement, or maybe just a touch that makes him moan genuinely. Erwin can tell, there is such deep loneliness behind those eyes. Desroches is remote even by island standards, private in every sense of the word but likely isolating too. Levi must not only be bored, but painfully excluded as well.
He’s fantastically easy to read.
Erwin’s Villa sits halfway on the hillside. Secluded, but with a good view down to the yacht out at sea. With a pair of powerful binoculars Erwin had been able to track the comings and goings of Lovof’s staff and himself meticulously. The infinity pool marks the ceramic slate route past the shaded lounging area, decorated with black and white flower patterned sofa beds, leading up to the house. The large floor to ceiling bay windows pull back to open the decking up. The furnishings are all rustic in a five star way, minimalist in an overbearing way.
Wicker spun seating and soft linen cushions, in the living area, sweeping through to the four poster bed.
Levi had left with him, with not even a word of goodbye to Lovof and no personal belongings on him, he had slid silently into a golf buggy and not spoken a word since.
“I’m using your shower” he says, briskly, as his gaze takes stock of Erwin’s room. There is nothing to see, Erwin makes sure of it. An opened suitcase, with some haphazardly placed shirts, A passport on his bedside table - fake, off course. The bathroom will have his Clive Christian and a plethora of open hotel freebies. The Beretta Nano, gps trackers, secure line phone; those are well hidden. Not that he doesn’t trust Levi - Levi with his unpinnable accent and quiet demeanour. Levi from an island, somewhere, who knows. Yes, Levi is clearly a very trustworthy boy.
While he showers, Erwin orders a platter of fresh fruits to the address, lobster thermidor and a Vionger to pair with it. Levi appears a minute after the food arrives, as though he heard it or smelt it perhaps, Steam flushed and clad in one of Erwin’s complimentary robes that absolutely drowns him. He looks vaguely like a puffed up kitten, with how it fluffs around his neck. Erwin has changed too, as the sun begins to dip towards the Indian ocean, to a white shirt and navy slacks.
Levi’s gaze does linger on him, even if it seems to resent itself for doing so. His hand dances over the selection of fruit, before plucking a square of mango and sliding into his mouth.
His eyes flutter, like somehow, living in luxury still hasn’t prepared him for simple pleasures.
It’s a strange dichotomy; to demand a bigger engagement ring from your sugar daddy and yet still seem shocked by the lavishness of your own lifestyle. Unless of course, you’re lying.
He settles like a cat might in the sun, flipping his hair out his eyes and sucking the juice of his fingers, spreading himself across the sofa. He has surprisingly built abs, sucked tight against his skin and incredibly defined lats. His whole back ripples with muscle actually.
“How long have you been engaged?” Erwin asks, popping the champagne and slinging the ice bucket under his arm, pulling two glasses together and carrying them to the table. Levi’s gaze tracks him until he’s sat before it drops away to the lobster. “Please,” Erwin insists and Levi tucks in without a second thought.
“A month” He answers. “Nicky was heartbroken after uhm -” Levi frowns. “Samantha? Passed away but, we all need to move on”
Erwin nods, mildly.
“I was their housekeeper,” Levi says and Erwin decides he’s not going to get any of that thermidor. There is something endearing with how Levi eats it like it’s his last meal. “For two of their estates and the London townhouse. They took me almost everywhere. I think Sammy saw me as family” He says it like a joke, in many ways it is one. “Tragic, really” Levi’s fork drags around the plate, gathering the white meat through the sauce. “You should always check your clipped in when you’re going boating” he says rather didactically.
“What a promotion you got though” Erwin smiles, pouring Levi a glass before he can object. He takes it this time, without even a beat, drinks it like juice and then shakes his head violently, gasps in the back of his throat.
“Well, he always had eyes for me” Levi says and his lip curls in disgust. “That’s good,” he adds, about the champagne. Erwin shrugs, it's the middle of the road, he’d say. Though Lovof strikes him as a man of stature not a man of class. He’s not sure what Levi strikes him as.
“And what is Lovof doing here?” He asks mildly, popping a slice of Kiwi into his mouth as he leans back on the chair, ankle resting on his knee.
“Business” Levi shrugs. “He passed some - some bill recently, one he’d lobbied for a while. He’s celebrating, with the friends who it’ll benefit”
Erwin is aware, actually, Lovof’s armament company was one of the government's key security servicer. The bill Lovof passed granted impunity to any UK contractor selling to sanctioned countries, even ones sanctioned explicitly by the Government, on the grounds they did so privately. Regardless of the 100 billion pounds of tax-payers money funnelled through the home office and the ADS, the house had found no conflict of interest in awarding Lovof’s firm a surveillance contract only a week later.
“Sounds boring” Erwin notes. “And he strong-armed you along then?”
Levi leans back, regards Erwin as he locks his ankles over one another. “His friends need something to look at '' He snips, irascible. He cocks an eyebrow, jaw set, like he’s angry at himself, or like he’s - dissatisfied and can’t work out why. He plays, aimlessly, with the ring on his finger, like he’s half considering throwing it into the pool behind him.
“Well” he seems to decide, with a tight, repressed breath. “I can’t complain, can I?” His eyes flicker to Erwin, as though he’d have the answer.
“Complaining is cathartic” Erwin stands under the guise of staring at the beginnings of a sunset. He leans on the back of the sofa, hand falling to the nape of Levi’s neck, feeling the tendons tighten. “Unless you’re a stoic”
Levi stays very still. “Catharsis?” He says, his breath is very even, shoulders set back as he swallows.
“Mm” Erwin agrees, soft, he trails his hand through the downy hairs of his undercut, up to the damp curled strands of his hair. “Release”
“ Oh” Levi breathes and he looks up, lip bitten, repressed hope in his tight features.
Oh, indeed.
Levi must weigh about 120 pounds soaking wet because when Erwin sweeps him into his arms, legs hiked around his waist and bathrobe falling off him, he feels lighter than a feather. He moans, breathy and high-pitched, to Erwin’s ears he thinks it might be fake. It’s no matter really, Levi is likely used to performing.
Erwin kisses a soft trail of kisses up the line of Levi’s jaw, feeling it tremble. He lies him on his back, across sheets just freshly laundered by housekeeping and watches how Levi’s eyes dilate when takes his hand, kissing along his palm, up his left ring finger, sucking it into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the digit as Levi’s brow knit and his head tilts away. He takes Cartier band between his teeth and drags it off Levi’s finger.
“Look at me” Erwin murmurs and Levi does, glassy eyed and tongue dampening his bottom lip. Erwin places the ring on the dresser, keeping Levi’s eyes as he ducks his head down, bringing their lips together on the trenchant little hiccup. Levi’s arms loop hopelessly around his neck, one ankle wrapping around his calf. He kisses like a starved man, manicured nails scratching into Erwin’s hair as he opens his mouth pliantly. He’s whispering, between his gasps, between their kisses just soft yeses, pleases, Erwins. It’s very precious.
He pulls the terry cloth apart, trailing a pass of open mouth kisses along the skin there, down to Levi’s cock. He’s shaking now, likely with nothing more than repression.
“Oh you poor thing” Erwin whispers, nosing the sharp line of Levi’s thigh tendon, the fresh clean scent of him, the underlying beginnings of sweat in the tropic humidity. Levi bites his wrist, bucks his hips a little impatient but with enough lift for Erwin to slide his hands under Levi’s ass and pull him by the hips onto Erwin’s lap. He lets out a kind of stifled mewl, flushes violently at it.
He takes Levi in mouth, watches him intently, the way his hands fist the sheets, his eyes fly open in shock. No-one’s ever, Erwin surmises and Levi makes a noise that goes straight to Erwin’s groin. His incredibly vocal, he mewls and howls and digs his fingers into Erwin’s hair, fucks up into his throat with reckless abandon, restraint gone, eyes wide and lashes fluttering.
He’s hopeless at restraint, Erwin realises, like with the booze, with his frantic eyes on his camels at the bar, this facade of Ennui is flimsy at best. He uncaps the lube he used yesterday on an extremely attractive busboy. Levi’s thighs tense, his wrist taking the full bite of his jaw as he stifles a wail. A foot hooks over Erwin’s shoulder, accommodating.
Erwin gets three fingers deep before Levi’s eyes crest with tears, catching and clumping his lashes. “Please -” he hiccups. “Fuck - Erwin -”
He can’t deny someone that sounds so pretty.
He’s almost unbearably tight, his reactions incredibly raw. Erwin kisses along his brow, down his neck, careful not to leave a mark even if Levi’s definitely leaving more than a few on him. Teeth and well maintained claws raking his shoulders. He’s loud; heavy desperate moans on every thrust. Erwin keeps him bracketed to his chest as Levi teeth drag with no real bite across his collar, wet, sloppy.
He ends up with Levi on his back, hands scrambling at the sheet as Erwin sets a punishing pace, hands digging into the meat of his hips, filling him up, hot, branding. Levi’s eyes are wide but unseeing, tears trailing down into his lash line, drool matching the path down his cheek and when he cums, with Erwin’s hand setting pace with his thrusts, he shudders so violently, with such a cry, Erwin wonders if he passes out. He fucks him through his aftershocks, watching his eyes flutter, his breath wretched.
He’s beautiful, Erwin thinks, with the strangest anagnorisis. Erwin’s not sure he’s ever found someone so beautiful.
Levi lies sated in the sheets, eyes closed and mouth open as he evens his breath. “ You -” He begins hopelessly.
“I?” Erwin wonders, kisses the sweat away from Levi’s collar, down his arm. Levi turns onto his front as Erwin pulls away, stretches out.
“When do you leave?” Levi breathes and there is a helpless edge to his tone. Erwin sighs, turns back even if Levi’s eyes dart to the nearest inanimate object, his nostrils flaring.
“Tomorrow morning”
Levi can’t hide the disappointment, it drains the colour from his face and then, he is very quiet as Erwin rakes for his shirt, sliding it back on. Levi lies by him with his arms over his face. It’s disappointing for both of them, Levi has been the highlight of an otherwise fairly lackluster mission.
“Nicolas is away tonight, You know” He says tonelessly. “He’s leaving me on the boat while he wines and dines some colleagues at the villa. I gave the staff a night off. I’ll be lonely, I think”
Erwin turns, belaying his intrigue he crawls back over the bed, pins Levi’s wrists to the sheets and purrs “Are you inviting me home ?”
“Do you need a written invitation?” Levi snaps and then flushes, looks away with a slight pout. “Yes”
Erwin kisses inside of his wrist as Levi’s breath stutters in his nose. “Down past the main beach, toward the north there is a pier Lovof uses for the skis for the staff. There a lockbox for the keys, the code’s 32019” He moves down to kiss the line of Levi’s calf. “Oi - did you get all that?”
The line clicks through eventually. Erwin dips his big toe into the pool as he paces, glancing once over his shoulder at the dozing outline of Lovof’s fiance. Moblit, a hot room technician with a bad taste in beer and a worse taste in suits answers.
“The drop was a bust” He says down the line.
The subtle clacking of a typing keyboard, Moblit clears his throat. “Roger that, a chartered flight leaves the island at 0700 tomorrow morning to Victoria, we’ll have you a ticket”
“I have a way onto Lovof’s yacht” He says, softer. Levi stretches across the sheets behind him, arms dropping over his face, the tips of his toes peeking out from under the linen.
“Right, '' There is a pause, long enough to know Moblit is not the only person on the line. Erwin’s nose wrinkles. Oh lord. “Can I - uhm - can I put you on hold, Smith?”
It clicks within seconds.
“You will absolutely, positively, not set foot on the bloody boat, Smith” Shadis barks.
He has to lift the phone away from his ear, taking an exhausted breath in. “Certainly, sir but Lovof is here for business, there is no way he won’t have a paper trail”
Shadis is talking over him, which is to be expected, it’s why he doesn’t call very often or - actually maybe because he doesn’t call too often. “If an Mi6 agent was caught sneaking around a government minister's private Yacht it would be the end of us. As if I don’t have Dok and his bloody cronies from Mi5 breathing down my neck, threatening to put together some- some internal affairs committee on your bloody behaviour. They’d have my fucking head for this”
Erwin feels his temples throb. “Well, Sir, If I may; it is called espionage for a reason. It would between you, me and the agency”
“You watch your cheek, Erwin. I gave you 00 status for your skill not your lip. Status that I can have revoked at any point. So let’s not. You get on the plan in the morning, you hear me, You’ll be debriefed tomorrow night, that’s the end of it. You’ve had your three strikes - Fuck, Smith - you’re on six strikes at this point and I refuse to cover for you the next time -”
Erwin turns to see Levi leant against the glass partition, Redressed in his Versace shorts and looking dreamily well fucked.
“A bad signal -” He says down the line. “I’ll call you back” and pointedly hangs up.
Levi stretches, arms above his head, steps around the pool edge delicately. “Who were you on the phone to?” he rubs his eyes.
“My boss,” He sighs.
Levi drops to sit, dangling his legs in the water he leans back on his elbows. “I thought you were here for pleasure?” he squints at the low sun. A precocious little thing, Erwin notes, even with a sun-kissed flush across his cheeks and dozy look in his eyes.
“Work has a tendency to follow me everywhere” He admits and Levi smiles a little, a soft, natural thing, it sits nicely on his face actually.
“Me too,” He says and stands reluctantly. “Well” he says it a little awkwardly, very sweetly. He offers his hand to Erwin, as he tucks his chin into the divot of his shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight, maybe?”
Erwin ignores his hand, they’re passed that. Although, Levi is probably considered he just slept with a stranger in a desperate bid to feel something before his wedding day. Erwin is happy to oblige, in a way they are using one another. He leans down, pressing a scorchingly innocuous kiss to the side of Levi’s lip, just to feel him suppress a shudder. He pulls back to admire the soft flush, the pinched eyebrows, the drop of his lower lip.
“I’ll be there”
Around seven pm, after a bottle of 2015 Chateau Beychevelle to go with the Wagyu Beef loin, he makes his way to the pier that Levi had told him about, down a dirt path - old, and mostly unused bar the fresh tracks of Lovof’s men, to find the tied up bobbing Jet Ski in the low light. The keys are in the lockbox, the code the very same Levi promised. The engine rumbles to life, settles into a purr that disturbs the gentle laps of water and crickets. Erwin checks up the black, unlit forest path but no-one has followed and he’s far enough away from the main buildings that the light barely reaches, farless the sound.
The black tar waves slip under the roar of the Kawasaki as he slows to a crawl along the bow of the Yacht. In the night it cuts an impressive, impregnable, shape across the horizon. A pad on the second deck with a docked helicopter. From this close, Erwin has to crane his neck up to see the railing, the lowlights that line the wood floor flash, black, light, black, light. The padding of feed. Levi pops his head over the side, leans on his forearms to smile down, soft and coy. “Hi” He calls.
“Hi,” Erwin shouts back.
Levi bites his lip as though to stifle his smile. “I’ll come down”
Erwin brings the jet to a stop at the afterdeck, just as Levi comes down the wood panelled stairs. He’s dressed tip to toe in Gucci; a fully branded pet. The shirt is sheer, an off white floral print that does little to disguise his pink shoulders and pale chest, a black bow around the pointed collar, sitting comfortably on his neck not unlike a collar might. His jeans give the impression of relaxed but the sowed Gucci cat at the curve of his waist to his ass, give away their price, they flayer at the bottom, though Levi has cuffed it and with the shirt tucked in, make his already small waist look synched. He thinks, maybe the most egregious part are the Princeton leather, fur lined slippers he’s slid snuggly into. Comparatively his Armani shirt feels cheap, though remarkably less tacky.
“See” He says, his lips are lined with gloss, his hair licking a well styled curve along his forehead, slipping behind his ear, resting on his high cheekbone. “Not a soul”
“Well” Erwin smiles, stepping onto the deck, straightening out his shirt. “Your crew is down a ski for the return leg”
Levi is already turning, shrugging a shoulder. “They can share”
He follows Levi up the stairs, watching the way his hips move. “Do you play a sport?” He asks, as he studies the firmness of his ass, considers the incredible way the low sun had hit his muscles. “You’re very fit”
Then, without a beat, Levi muses. “I’m a three time national gymnastics champion”
“For where?” He asks, cataloguing the mezzanine bar, the leather couches that lead back into a living area. He wonders where Lovof keeps his valuables. All the lights are low, no staff to keep the place feeling alive and it gives a strangely eerie quality to the lavish furnishings. He thinks of Levi alone here, with nothing but the night sky and the lap of the ocean. He feels bad for him. That form of loneliness, that gilded cage, Levi seems above it.
“The USSR at the time,” Levi says.
Enjoyably cryptic, Erwin thinks with a pinch to his brow. At the time implies he’s not Russian then, though that by no-means narrows it down. Though, it’s seemingly inconsequential when Levi, unprompted, keels forward into a perfectly straight handstand, taking a few steps forward, before bending himself backwards up again into standing. His feet brush the back of his head for a moment before they touch the ground.
“I believed you” Erwin says, fondness touching his tone. Levi looks over his shoulder, a little flush of exertion on his face.
“It’s always good to stretch a muscle” He muses. Erwin watches Levi trail his delicate hand across the railing before he turns sharply onto a deck bar, motioning to the curved white leather sofa for Erwin to sit as he moves to the drinks counter. He shakes a half empty bottle of something. “Gin and tonic?”
Erwin squints at the label; Hendricks. Passable. “If you’re having one”
Levi pulls two tumblers out from under the counter, though Erwin does note he only pours tonic into his own. Levi slices a cucumber and sucks the juice of his thumb, drops them neatly into the glasses and taps the black marble counter, beckoning Erwin for collection.
“I thought you were a maid” Erwin says, tight with exertion as he stands, crossing the two steps to Levi and picking up the glass. The ice shifts, tinkles in the silent night air. Levi cocks an eyebrow.
“I thought you were a gentleman,” He snipes back.
Erwin smiles, clicking his tongue softly. “Touche” He lifts the glass and Levi mirrors his motions. “To rising above our stations”
They sit in the quiet night. Levi with his feet on Erwin’s lap, neck against the leather headrest. His eyes are fixed on the light fixture above, the dewey tumbler clutched precariously in his hand in a strange grip. Erwin rubs the bridge of his foot with his knuckles as he considers where Lovof might keep documents. Yacht’s like these usually have offices or space enough in master suites to work. The thought is shattered by a soft confession.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been” Levi murmurs dully.
Erwin turns to look at him and finds Levi has rearranged, arms crossed over his stomach. His features are pinched tight, well plucked brows knitted, inscrutable.
“Isn’t that tragic?” He snorts, gaze drifting to the glass in his hand, lips quivering a little upward, like they hate the action, or like the muscles have forgotten. Erwin doesn’t think so, not at all. Levi’s forthcoming because Erwin is impartial, a stranger. This is Levi’s confession, probably the first time he can be open with anyone. Erwin strokes up his calf, quiet consolation and Levi’s eyes flicker to his, breath evening out - slow, deep - as Erwin places a knee on the creaking leather and takes Levi’s chin, placing his drink on the table for him, closing the gap between them.
Levi tastes like tonic, sharp but sweet, he opens up, more pliant and more desperate than their kisses earlier that day. Levi no longer demands to be courted, he just - falls , gracefully, into Erwin’s embrace, as though this is something he will take - take without apathy, without affectation. His arms snake around Erwin’s neck, one ankle hooking around his waist as Erwin pulls them both down onto the sofa, kissing him thoroughly, fucking his mouth till Levi is purring, content, underneath him.
“Where,” He murmurs, but Levi shushes him with another kiss, two, three, gentle pecks along the bow of his lips. “Is the bathroom?”
Levi pulls back dopily. “Uhm, up the stairs, first cabin” He murmurs, cheeks flushed and eyes falling shut.
Erwin smiles, kisses Levi’s nose. “I’ll only be a moment”
He walks further into the interior, leaving Levi lounging on his back, lips drool stained shiny and eyes closed. There is a spiral staircase, carpeted with sleek white plastic walls and dotted blue lowlights that Erwin takes two by two. Other than the chunter of the engine the floor seems dead. He checks each room, perfectly made four poster beds. He finds the bathroom Levi had indicated, electing to ignore it. The master bedroom does indeed have a sliding door through to an office space, dined in mahogany. Erwin steps through the threshold, a keypad rests on the sliding frame though the door has been left open. He steps through, checks the corners for any cameras and moves over to the desk.
It’s freshly dusted. Levi, likely and nothing but an empty pad of complimentary paper and an ornate ink pen line the desk. There seems to be little indication of a drawer underneath, through when Erwin runs his fingers along the line of wood, he finds a clicker on the right hand side that opens a compartment. A stripped down, black netbook lies on a bed of green velvet. Erwin pulls it out, opens the lid and pulls from the breast pocket of his shirt a small USB, compact enough to not draw any attention, he slides it into the port and watches the door as the password decryptor works. The hum of the engine and the sound of the sea are loud enough that Erwin wants to keep a eyes on the doorway in case of any sign of return. Not that he could do much, he thinks with a wry smile to himself, No, Shadis would definitely have his head.
His eyes flicker back to the screen. The documents that are downloading flicker up on the screen for the time it takes for them to be copied. It’s contracts mostly, Erwin notes, to munitions factories mostly, out-payments to staff, to building contractors. It’s an untaxed in-payment of half a million dollars from one specific place, an address that catches Erwin’s eye, makes his throat dry and his heart seize.
Paradis Island
Oh, he suddenly thinks, oh. Paradis Island was a private island in the Atlantic Ocean, somewhere far off the coast of Morocco, up towards Portugal. British owned from the 1600’s, it was bought after the war by a Viscount family by the name of Reiss who held a precarious place between private island and sovereign nation on the island till a series of complaints - from island locals, expats in need of work mostly - had petitioned the government to know avail in the name of egregious workers rights violations.
Until eventually, around 1998 - yes, Erwin thinks, it was summer, he remembers the heat, it was a warm summer and he had spent most of it in Lake Geneva with the few friends he’d made in his first year at the Institut International de Lancy - A UN investigator had been dispatched. One returned, with a report claiming no wrong-doing, the other did not. The other, resolutely, Erwin thinks distantly, did not return.
Erwin doesn’t remember the day he was told, actually. He remembers being confused that he was going to a funeral when his father was merely away on business, that had seemed odd because in Erwin’s head, even up until now, there had been this tiny part of him that expected his Father’s return. Every attempt, post the turn of the millennium, to send any form of investigatory team to Paradis had been vetoed in the house and Erwin now, so clearly, sees how and why and Lovof had now opened himself a clear line of trade with them.
A network indeed. That had dug it’s spindly little claws into every aspect of Erwin’s world -
“Oi” Levi is leant against the door, pouting a little. His shirt is undone a little, his posture disillusioned. Yes, Erwin probably took longer than he expected. “What’re you doing?”
Erwin blinks, he hadn’t heard him coming, hadn’t even glimpsed his shadow. When on earth was the last time someone snuck up on him. He swallows, forces a smile.
“Checking tomorrow's weather” He admits. “I have a fear of those little propeller planes”
Levi’s brows knit, his jaw clenching. “Could’ve used your phone”
He pulls the USB free, tucks it up his sleeve and crosses the cream carpet towards Levi.
“I have no signal on his godforsaken island” He slides a hand into Levi’s hair. Smiles wide and charming. Levi shakes him off.
“You called your boss fine earlier -”
He kisses him, harder than he means to, in an attempt to calm his heart. It works to an extent. Levi takes two steps back out back into the bedroom, whispers a breath of ‘ fuck’ into Erwin’s mouth and falls as his back of his knees hit the bed.
Erwin pulls back. “I made you wait” He undoes the lace lined buttons of Levi’s shirt, feels his ribs rise and fall to meet the touch. He slides his hands down his waist, across the V of muscles.
“You did,” Levi breathes. “God, I was just lying on my back thinking about your cock” He slurs.
He’s been drinking, Erwin thinks. Maybe it hasn't stopped since this afternoon. He hadn’t noticed before. “And earlier too, at dinner with Vv’s boring fucking friends, all I could think about was you. Why’re you leaving tomorrow?” He gasps.
“Runaway with me” He whispers, before he can help it and Levi goes violently still underneath him.
“What?”
He thinks of Lovof, of that whole world, of the horrors of anyone involved with Paradis - trafficking, of all varieties - he thinks of his Father, more innocent than Levi, of the punishment that Levi will take for merely being in Erwin’s presence, that just allowing Erwin onto this boat will inflict on Levi and he realises, hopelessly ‘ I’ve doomed him’
“My flight leaves at 7 tomorrow. Leave with me. Forget him, forget this place”
“I hardly know you” Levi shakes his head, looks away.
“And do you know Lovof?” He asks, genuine. Levi’s nostrils flares. He is quiet for a contemplative moment, eyes downcast.
“Where would we go?” He asks after a beat.
“London” He murmurs. “Or - no, anywhere. Name a place”
Levi smiles, softly, distantly. “London… London would be nice”
Erwin smiles, feeling some form of pride bubble inside him, in the face of it all, at being able to unfreeze someone like Levi in a matter of an afternoon. The sheets have been freshly made and bracketing either side of the four posts, linen curtains lie, cozying them into the bed.
“Then lets, Levi”
Levi nods then, softly and then harder, leans up to kiss him again, tentative at first and then desperate and wet a second time.
“Can I?” Levi whispers, hands on Erwin’s zipper.
He nods, allowing Levi to strip him down, straddle his waist. His shirt is dropped haplessly on the floor by Levi and he would check the integrity of the biggest uncovering of his 00 career but Levi is stripping down to reveal leather garters, snug around his waist and tight enough around his thighs skin peaks over and any form of integrity of any sort leaves Erwin Smith’s mind.
“You’re unreal” He chokes and Levi smiles, that same coy thing he first gave Erwin and licks a strip up his twitching cock. Erwin watches him, watches him intently and glassy eyed as his jaw unhinges salaciously, garish, to accommodate the length. Levi lets out a whimper, a throaty, full thing as he drools a line down Erwin’s balls. It’s only when he begins to swirl his tongue that Erwin's eye flutters shut.
“ Fuck” he whispers and Levi hums, heartily, in response. It’s the type of pleasure you can lose yourself in, feel like you’re drowning in the egyptian cotton under you. Erwin bucks up, finds one hand in Levi’s hair, fucking up into him in a desperate search for release, a hopeless abandon. It’s good, god it’s good, Levi is perfection, the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s a cleaner, is he not? Erwin could employ him, its not like he’s ever in that townhouse in Chelsea, it could be Levi’s and the only thing he’d ever demand in return was the feel of that fucking mouth.
He tightens his hand, lost in the fantasy as he hurtles closer to the edge. Yes, Levi would look perfect in that flat, would be a dream to return to, would be -
Something cold presses against his thigh. Cold in a very particular way.
“Easy” Levi says, flat. “Don’t buck or you’ll bleed out”
Oh, he thinks. His cock twitches once in betrayal. Levi’s eyes are cold, a mild ferality just behind his steel gaze but he’s much too focused on his face, not focused enough on his hand and Erwin’s hand slides into his trouser pocket, hung haphazardly of the side of the bed and whips his hand up to Levi’s neck. He hears a startled noise, the dig of the knife, but then there is silence.
“Here now, Levi,” He says. “I thought we were getting along. Seems we’re at an impasse”
Levi’s eyes flicker to Erwin’s wrist, his breaths horse-like and frantic in his nose. “You have a pen to my neck, Mr. Smith. I have a knife to your femoral artery. I don’t see much of an impasse”
“And here I thought we were on first name terms” He leans up on an elbow, Levi presses in. “And it’s not just a pen. I press in it’ll shoot 20mg of a very deadly neurotoxins straight into your neck”
Levi’s gaze flickers. “You’re bluffing”
Erwin frowns. “Am I?”
“You’re british secret service aren’t you?” Levi says, changing his grip on the penknife.
“And you were keeping the knife in those garters, weren’t you?” Erwin smiles. “Well, I have to admit it was fairly -”
“Shut up” Levi threatens.
“Distracting” Erwin tilts his head. “So you and Lovof?”
Levi snorts. “In his sad, pathetic dreams. It’s a good front, gets people's guards down.But I’d break his arm if he ever touched me”
Erwin frowns. “And you’re not a cleaner then?”
Levi shrugs mildly. “I am, in a way”
He’s a fucking assasin, Erwin realises dumbly, and he let him in his bed twice.
“Don’t tell me you lied about the gymnastics too” Erwin pouts. “I may well cry, Levi”
Levi presses the blade in. Erwin affects lassitude. “How many times have you two pulled this honey trap then?”
Levi tuts. “More times than one”
“And do you let all your marks fuck you?”
Levi does something with the blade that makes Erwin hiss. “Only the insufferable ones” He snarls.
Erwin’s nostrils flare. “So what gave me away?”
Levi’s features are pinched tight, an edge to them Erwin hadn’t even imagined. The grip on the blade is immaculate, the honeytrap he planned almost flawless. He’s trained, well trained. “Lovof was tipped off that Mi6 was investigating his overseas business, that the pill re-opened trade opportunities with Paradis. Mi6 keeps tabs. Didn’t think you’d be so bold. Where are the files” It’s barely a question.
Erwin motions with his head. “My shirt breast pocket”
Levi nods curtly, like appreciates the truth and begins to lean down, knife still pressed firmly against the artery, pen still pressed into his neck. He moves slowly, like he’s backing away from a lion.
“Careful now, Levi,” He says softly. “It’s not a pleasant way to die”
“Neither is bleeding out all over your own balls, Smith” He sneers.
“And with those files” He says, bargaining, gentle. “Will you return them to your Master? Continue cleaning up his messes? If you left with me -”
Levi laughs, a hopeless scratchy thing. “You’re dense, Smith. I’m not giving it back to him, it’s my fucking insurance. Don’t treat me like an idiot, once I gave you what you want the SIS would take one look at my rep sheet and put me away for life”
Erwin blinks. “So you plan to blackmail him?”
“I’m buying back my freedom with the only currency he knows. I need chips in the game” Levi snarls, desperate, animalistic. There is no bargaining with that, Erwin realises. He realises, just as hopelessly, there is no bartering with him. Not with this truth. Not so close.
Well then he thinks, how unfortunate and clicks the pen in.
Levi reels, hand coming up to his neck. He puts distance between them, scrambling back onto the bed. A moment passes, another. Levi’s breath evens slightly. Erwin advances on him.
“You fucking liar, what was that” Levi barks.
It’s a GPS tracker, just under the skin of his neck. Long range, even if he got away with the documents, there would be nowhere for him to hide. Not that he is getting away. “It’s no fun just telling you. You’ve not been particularly forthcoming with me”
Levi lunges. Erwin catches his wrist, pulling the knife arm taunt but Levi drops the blade down into his left hand, swings at Erwin’s bare stomach, just grazing the skin. He’s good with both hands, then. Levi spins, forcing Erwin to let go lest he break his wrist and kicks a foot onto the bed to propel himself. He wraps the linen curtain round Erwin’s throat, hauling back. They collapse onto the bed, Levi’s thighs securing around Erwin’s shoulders. Spots begin to dot his vision, teeth ground and breath seizing through the gap as Levi hauls back, Erwin reaches blindy behind himself, catches Levi’s mop of black hair and hauls. Levi lets out a wail, both hands scratching Erwin’s wrist before he’s thrown bodily off the bed and bounces off the wood paneled wardrobe.
Erwin coughs, painful and wheezy, rubbing his throat as his vision returns. Levi is already on the move. He catches the shirt off the floor and throws it on, makes a beeline for the cabin door.
Fuck
Erwin catches him in the hallway, bouncing them of the claustrophobic cabin doors caging them in before they hit the floor. Levi snarls in frustration, caught under Erwin’s weight, writhing like a cat. He squirms forward far enough to drive his elbow back down into Erwin’s nose before he scrambles inelegantly to his feet and trips off down the stairs. He follows Levi, stalling himself just fast enough to avoid a bottle of hendricks to the face at the bottom. He turns the corner in time to watch Levi wrap the USB in the plastic wrap under the minibar and place it between his teeth. He steps back, eyes on Erwin, knife in hand as he steps up onto the railing, bare feet digging into the metal though perfectly balanced. For a moment, the world stops there, with Levi’s sad steely eyes.
Erwin watches the truth he forgot he was even still searching for slip between his fingers. An ignited part of himself that had calcified over the years suddenly alite and still knowing it’s not enough. He must look so pathetically hopeless to Levi.
“Thanks,” Levi says, muffled between his teeth. “Erwin Smith”
And then he dives.
Erwin makes it to the railing just in time to watch his feet disappear into the inky black. For a moment, the loudest thing is Erwin’s heartbeat. His head empty, until he blinks back to himself and pulls off his watch, clicking in the back to pull out the emergency earpiece. It links through almost immediately.
“You’re on that Yacht, aren’t you?” Hange Zoe, Mi6’s current Quartermaster, says wearily. The tracker is their design, though Erwin is more than aware that it was designed for use on an agent, incase of an arrest, a capture. They’re probably going to be disappointed it’s in the neck of an international assassin. Though improvisation comes with the job.
“I just put a tracker your someone, I need their location”
He searches along the bow for any sign of Levi, instead finds the Anchor. He hears, distantly from under him, the sound of wet footsteps, the rev of an engine.
That fucking jet-ski. He brought Levi his escape, he was played from the start. God he didn’t even notice.
“They’re literally on top of you,” Hange says.
“Under me” Erwin corrects, pressing in the button to pull up the anchor. He gives up halfway when he watches Levi gain speed.
“They’re heading inland”
Fuck it, Erwin thought. Fuck it. He sprints to the bridge with its picture perfect view of his prize escaping. He looks over the control panel, sleek and similar to any other one. Familiar enough. Erwin pushes in the throttle, watching the knots climb and the engine object. He rakes through the shelves, finding a spare pair of working slacks and hauling them on before he has to chase an assassin through four seasons.
“What’re you -” Hange laughs, awkwardly, painfully . Well, there is a chance this will get them both fired “What are you doing, Smith?”
It rolls forward over the waves, creating enough momentum in the current that Levi struggles to maintain his balance. The Yacht hits the shore with an almighty sound,metal rending and sand parting. It destroys three beach huts and just clips the edge of the very pool he and Levi met in before coming to a screeching stop. The hull knocks Levi and the jet across the beach. He hits the shore like a ragdoll, bouncing off the sand, brought in by a wave to lie beached by the broken parts of the Kawasaki.
“Tell me if he moves,” Erwin mutters, kicking open the cabin door. “If he so much as breathes”
“Erwin-” Hange says, warning. There is screaming, Erwin notes, from the pool area, running and confusion. He makes his way down to the aft-deck, jumping the remaining distance into the in time to see Levi stumble to his feet. He has a head injury, the blood and the sea water mingling down Erwin’s shirt as he heaves in breaths and stabilizes himself with two hands splayed out to the side. They regard one another, Erwin with black bruises round his neck, thigh bleeding steadily. The water laps at his feet.
Levi blinks blood out his eyes, shakes his head and bolts into the tree line.
He’s a fast little fucker, Erwin realises, as he follows in pursuit. He’s not sure if it’s a mixture of the humiliation of Levi’s ruse working so perfectly, or how deep the cut of this realised truth is.
“He’s 40 yards up ahead,” Hange tells him. “He’s turning right, heading in towards the Villas”
Erwin turns, swiftly, hoping to cut him off as he comes out the tree line, they just miss each other, his hand just brushing the back of his collar. Levi breathless and concussed stumbles two steps back. The only remnants of the man he knew this afternoon are the blood stained diamond studs in his ear. He looks close to passing out, swaying on his feet and yet, he still runs, on brush cut feet, mud kicking up his calves from the forest floor.
“He’s exhausted,” He tells Hange. “He can’t go far”
The Villa he comes up to is empty, the lights off, the driveway uninhabited. Above it dense tropical forest dots an impregnable hill line Levi could not climb in his condition. The light of the resort ends abruptly, like it’s eaten by the jungle above . Along the patio, past the pool, dotted with leaves, is a line of blood. Erwin slows, like a hunter might. Levi is unknowable, much stronger than he expected. He won’t take any risks.
The glass door is cracked, blood stained, unlocked through force. Erwin carefully pushes it open. The living room is empty, dead silent. The blood gets stronger behind the couch, black in the lowlight. Erwin steps around the glass, taking careful steps, breath tight in his nose.
“He’s close. He’s not moving” Hange says, low in his ear.
Erwin nods, succinct, though they can’t see him. One step, two. Levi must be holding his breath, he can picture all 5”3 of him curled up. He pulls the wicker back with enough speed that it wouldn’t give anyone time to react. The room is still silent. In the distance he can hear sirens, flood lights from the resort illuminate the room. Helicopters are whirring.
There is a pool of blood, with a small cut out tracker in the middle of it. The Villa is empty. Levi is gone.
Erwin flips the sofa, forcing back a shout of anger. He evens his breath, heavy through his nose.
“The bitch is gone”
And in his favourite bloody shirt too.