Erwin is always so blessedly warm. Levi can manage the more extreme temperatures when absolutely necessary, but his body never really adjusted to them, always bundled into extra socks and layers when it got cold enough. Or, as is often now, stealing heat from his large husband, who seems to have it in excess.

"Hm," he muses, pressing the tip of his cold nose against Erwin's throat to warm it, leaving a kiss there in exchange. "Bet we could find someone older and geezier than you. Plenty of weirdos who say they're like five thousand years old around here."