#anarchyarmin

[Keep reading below, or see the chapter on AO3.]

***

No one is too eager to leave Erwin alone, it seems. Mike joins him the next night for dinner.

"I'll tell you what," Erwin says, poking at a slab of salmon sizzling on the grill. "This school year can't start fast enough."

"I hear ya'," Mike sighs. He cracks open another beer and sinks into the outdoor couch. "You ought to coach football with me this year."

"Come on, Mike, I never even played football."

"Assistant coach, then. Help with the conditioning. It'll be good for ya'," he says with a satisfied grin.

"You tryin' to keep me off the streets?"

"You know it."

Erwin serves the fish onto their plates and takes a long swill of wine.

"At least coach something," Mike says. "Hange'd probably love the help with the cross country team. And you could always coach tennis with Nan; the girls would love that."

"I'll think about it."

It's not a bad plan. As much as he likes the new house, the quiet is unsettling. Probably good to keep busy.

The late summer humidity is beginning to dissipate, and Erwin finds himself grateful to have a porch. If he had to move, he thought, at least he gets to be somewhere nice, and closer to the water. A pair of gangly egrets strides slowly through the marsh nearby. The two men chat and eat in the serene pink glow of the evening. Then, Mike lets out a bellow of laughter.

"Well, look'a there! Looks like dinner attracted some of the local wildlife," he says with a wide grin.

A small black cat with a flash of white across his chest waits at the top of the wooden staircase.

"Look at you! Little tuxedo cat," Mike calls affectionately.

Erwin can't help but smile. He's always liked cats. And Marie was so dreadfully allergic.

"Come here, buddy," Mike beckons. "Now, who do you belong to?"

The cat moves cautiously toward Mike, then presses his forehead into Mike's enormous palm.

"Aw, somebody's friendly," Mike says, beaming. "And look at that glossy coat, too! No tags on you, though...you must live by the docks, don'tcha, buddy?"

Erwin heaves with laughter at Mike's cooing voice. The cat arches his back, raising it into Mike's hand. Then, he gazes up at Erwin.

Erwin notices the cat's striking gray-blue eyes. He tentatively holds out his hand. The cat sniffs him, then rubs his head luxuriantly against him. Erwin can feel the slightest vibration of a purr through the cat's soft head, and it makes him melt.

"Hi there," he says softly, not wanting to spook the visitor.

"Somebody made a new friend," Mike says with supreme satisfaction.

Erwin taps the couch cushion lightly, and the cat jumps up in between him and Mike, pressing his nose to Erwin's index finger. Erwin looks at the cat sternly.

"I know what you want," he says with mock gravity. He spoons a few bites of fish onto a napkin and places it in front of the cat.

Oh god, Levi thinks. It smells so good. And he's so hungry. Don't rush, he thinks, don't look desperate.

The cat slowly, daintily eats the fish while the two men look on in amusement.

"Aw, don't feed him, Erwin," Mike says jokingly. "He'll never leave you alone."

Levi curls up in a heap between the two tall, broad men, and begins to methodically lick his paws.

"Well, that might not be the worst thing," Erwin says, smiling.

They fill the evening with banter. They chat about lesson plans, about repairs to the house, about the new car Mike wants to get for Nanaba. Levi falls asleep, adrift on the voices. Finally Mike looks at his watch and starts to gather the dishes. He pats the sleeping cat on the head.

"You be good now, buddy. Take care of my friend, y'hear? You come back and keep Erwin company."

So his name is Erwin, Levi thinks. Erwin chuckles at Mike's ridiculous talking-to-animals voice. Mike gives Erwin a bear hug good night, the kind that cracks the vertebrae in your back, and leaves his friend on the porch with the little furry lump on the couch. In the moment of stillness that follows, Erwin realizes something. One of the most stressful things about the divorce.

The lack of touch.

Erwin sits down gently and holds out his hand again. Levi lets Erwin scratch his chin. It feels so good. Oh god, don't embarrass yourself, he thinks...but he can't help purring. When you find a good one, you have to enjoy it. And this man... He looks up at the blonde man again.

"You sure got some pretty eyes," Erwin says, running his fingers through Levi's fur. He sighs. It feels good to have a warm body next to you, even if it's a tiny furry one, he thinks.

Levi feels himself going to putty. It's too good. He can't resist. He climbs in the man's lap. Erwin grins.

"Well gosh, if I'd known how nice this is, I'd have gotten a cat ages ago. Aw, listen to me, I'm as bad as Mike."

Erwin sips his iced tea, scrolls through a few articles on his phone, and listens to the wild drone of the crickets and the grumpy protestations of the frogs. The faint hum of Levi purring against his thigh suddenly goes still. The cat has fallen asleep. Erwin sighs again. It's bittersweet, he thinks. Nice to be the kind of person someone can fall asleep next to.

The cat stirs.

"You sure are friendly," Erwin says. "You've got to have people waiting on you somewhere; you're far too well-behaved to be a stray."

Levi feels both flattered and slightly offended.

"All right, buddy." He picks the cat up gently and sets him on the couch. "Time for this old man to call it a night."

Levi watches as Erwin disappears into the house, the lock on the door clicking softly behind him. Erwin, he thinks. Single. That's good. Used to be married to a woman. That's...not as good. But he sure was touchy with that other man...what was his name? Mike? Levi flops tragically onto his back, filled with hope, and more longing than he's felt in ages.

***

Oh no. No, this simply will not do. Not now. Not this close to the neighborhood. How could he let himself fall asleep?

Levi rolls over, off the couch and onto the floor of the porch. His bones are stinging, burning. He starts to run. Get to the water, get far from sight. His limbs tingle and ache. He tries to suppress whatever sound might escape from his elongating throat. He darts toward the sand, far from the boardwalk lights. Finally.

Concealed in darkness, he stands upright and stretches, safe. It's still a few hours before dawn, before the first ambitious runners hit the sand. He walks slowly down the beach, wind in his hair, and heaves a long sigh. The pain is gone; his human body is complete. Nothing to do now but wait, walk, maybe go for a swim while he has no fur. It's not where he prefers to be when he changes. But it's a clear night, full of stars, and it's not half bad.

***

He can't sleep.

He's not surprised.

It's been like this for weeks. He contemplates a glass of whiskey. He decides against it. Maybe a walk, now that he lives closer to the beach.

Erwin puts on a sweatshirt and flip flops, slips his phone in his pocket and grabs a flashlight. The night air is rich and cool.

When he reaches the water, he feels a flicker of hope. Maybe this isn't so bad. He always did want to live at the beach, while Marie always wanted to be closer to the city. Well, that's one good thing to come out of this. Maybe I'll get a cat now, too, he thinks.

He gives himself a half hour of wandering the shoreline and stargazing. As he turns to head back to the boardwalk, he spots a pale figure in the distance. Who goes swimming at this time of night?

He glances back again. It looks like a young man running his fingers through his short, dark, wet hair, waist-deep in the black water, gazing up at the moon.

Erwin steps onto the boardwalk and switches off his flashlight. The man in the distance notices the change in the light and turns around. Erwin waves. The man freezes, then tentatively, shyly waves back.