A/N: Just some shameless, raunchy smut (?) that doesn't really go as planned for anyone involved. Originally inspired by Jeffree Star's Prom Night, but then it veered over to some raunchy cupcakKe and Thugnificent territory. I should make an 8tracks playlist after I visit my local church.

Written for CaptainoftheRirenship

The end of this school year was, to say the least, an absolute mess.

Every other year? Easy. Go home, rot in the same spot for two months, then salvage a notebook and maybe a pencil or two when August rolled around.

Then there was this year.

It was Eren's graduating year, where the entire final quarter of his year had been a clusterfuck of existential crisis inducing questions. Questions about a job, a college, a career. Or, more simply - bills, debt, and perpetual exhaustion. Rent that costs an arm and a leg. God, who doesn't love the never-ending pit of capitalism?

But that was besides the point.

It was prom night, of course, who couldn't forget about that? Except Eren didn't have many friends, and he wasn't about to go spend money on a suit - some asshole made formal wear at a damned high school dance mandatory, seriously, what the fuck? - so there was only one other option that he had for that night.

As much as Eren hated Jean, he couldn't deny that the bastard's house parties were nice to attend. The night wasn't cold, but it wasn't uncomfortably warm, either. It was pleasant enough to stand outside in the backyard near the pool in his faded band T-shirt and overly baggy jeans, his phone in one hand and, when occasionally offered, a pipe in the other.

At some point, Mikasa and Armin had shown up, embarrassingly later than him because somehow, some people actually knew what they were doing with their lives. It's not like Eren could ever stay angry at them. It's not their fault that he's the throwaway of the bunch.

Like a godsend, Armin offered him a drink, a plastic cup filled with cola and, judging by the harsh sting that hung in his nostrils, spiked a generous amount. He wasn't old enough to drink, but definitely old enough to pay bills and sacrifice his life for the country. How convenient.

For the most part, Eren was content, a light buzzing evident from the weed and an uncomfortable burn in his nose and his throat from the vodka. His attention was focused primarily on the music. Whoever the DJ was had a good enough taste - Eren wasn't very keen on gangster rap, but it was catchy enough, and the beat was pleasant to his head in the nebulous pillows of his oncoming high. He tuned Armin and Mikasa out for the most part. That was until the music faded for a minute or two, allowing Eren to hear Armin's excited laugh, ". . . You know, I was actually accepted to a UC not too long ago."

"Really? Wasn't the price tag a little much?"

"Remember that full-ride scholarship I mentioned? I didn't think I'd get it after all, but I did!"

Oh, what a perfect way to ruin his night.

Sasha came by with a ridiculous amount of food that she smuggled from the snack table, and he used her as a distraction to get away. He felt a shiver, severely uncharacteristic of the pleasant night they were in, and his heartbeat was in his ears, and God, this was not the time to panic over how unprepared he was. He had to get his life together, apply for a job, apply for a college -

He felt someone catch his wrist. He jumped at the contact, looking down to see the pallid hand that offered him a wax pen. It was slender, diminutive in the way it delicately held it between two fingertips, and not too far away, a pretty face to accompany it. Eren wasn't sure if it was the weed or the remarkable silver in the man's eyes, but it took him a pathetically long time to register the tantalizingly silky voice, "Take a hit, kid. You look like you're shitting yourself."

"Uh . . . yeah, okay."

And Lord, was Eren pathetic; he didn't even really get a lungful before he was a coughing, spluttering mess. When he managed to stop the worst of the coughing, he saw the wispy cloud of smoke that left those thin lips, the way the metallic blue glow of the wax pen danced in the man's eyes, and eventually, the cat-like smirk that he wore.

"Your first time?"

"What? No -" Another violent cough interrupted his reply. "No, I just - wax was never my thing."

Thankfully, he didn't seem too disappointed. "I don't blame you."

He turned to leave, and somewhere in Eren's muddled brain, he thought it was a good idea to stop the guy by grabbing his damned shoulder. He didn't flinch at the sudden contact, merely raised an eyebrow in question, and Eren retracted his hand as if he had been burned. He struggled to formulate a coherent sentence for a minute before finally managing to say, "I'm Eren. It's nice to uh. To meet you. Hi."

That smirk widened, and Eren suddenly found it laborious to breathe again. "Hi," he threw back, and the mocking nature of it made Eren realize for a brief, alarmingly sober moment that suicide was indeed the answer. "It's Levi. Come see me during my next break, yeah?"

Levi was already walking away by the time Eren wistfully sighed, "Yeah."

He stared at Levi's retreating back, and his gaze slid lower. The material of Levi's pants clung to his thighs, shaped his perfect ass, and fuck, was he thicker than a racehorse. It'd be great if Levi wasn't a DJ. It'd be even better if he was the type to dance, grinding with the rest like it's nothing and throwing that ass in a circle like it's something. Eren yearned to reach out, grab his slender hips, and back that ass right up into his lap. He would, maybe, if he wasn't so shy. And he knew exactly what would remedy that.

Two more cups and God knows how many hits later and he was baked.

The music was louder than it was before - or maybe that was just him - and the beat radiated in his chest. He didn't trust himself to walk, but he didn't need to from where he was standing. There was a big enough gap to see Levi at the stand, a hand cupped over his headphones, occasionally looking over to talk to whoever was hanging out in the background.

Eren could still see his eyes, narrow and sharp and a molten silver that melted right through him, perfect and absolutely breathtaking. He wondered what they'd look like in the light, how they'd look like in the dim, warm yellow of a bedroom lamp. He wondered what they'd look like with pupils blown wide and focused only on him. Or maybe they'd look better when they were blurry and unfocused, lost in fucked-out bliss. Maybe it'd be better if his eyes were shut, come dripping from a heavy facial, clinging to his eyelashes, dripping down to his tongue, and fuck, Eren might just come at the thought of it.

It was pathetic, of course, and in some corner of Eren's mind, he was glad the lights were too dim for anyone to notice the embarrassing tent in his pants. But he could imagine if somehow, such a perfect guy, such a stunning deity, could be just as pathetic as him. Keening, whining, a needy, horny mess. He wanted to hear that voice again, as smooth and honeyed as it was, wanted to hear it when Levi came, wanted to hear how high it'd go.

Then those eyes meet his, and they were heavy, pupils wide and bleary. There's a slight sway where he was standing, a bottle of alcohol half-empty somewhere to his right, and Eren wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

It wasn't Levi's break yet, probably wasn't anywhere close, but Eren contemplated wandering over anyways. Sneak over, disappear somewhere under the long, dark tablecloth, and suck Levi off. Those pale, slender fingers would run through his hair, eventually yanking his head down, fucking his throat like a fleshlight until he choked on come. Eren reached for a drink, a normal one this time, the soda burning his throat and chilling his chest as it downed it. When he threw the cup aside and looked back at the stand, Levi was gone, with some guy sitting behind the stand on his phone instead while some painfully bass boosted song played.

Eren spun around wildly, searching until he found Levi at the door leading into the house. The alcohol bottle, now empty, hung loosely from his fingers. That same tantalizing smirk was on his lips. He slunk inside and Eren immediately followed, stumbling a bit, accidentally shoving a guy he barely knew. There was an angry voice behind him, but he ignored it, instead hurrying inside to follow Levi.

He found Levi at the foot of the staircase. In the significantly brighter light of the house, he could see the sharp angles of Levi's face, the absence of any soft or lanky adolescence, and more alarmingly, the beginnings of a tattoo peeking out from the exposed part of his collarbone. Eren faltered. He wondered where the hell Jean found this guy, this man, who was much older than he initially thought, much older than what was probably even remotely legal.

But as Levi started up the stairs and nearly disappeared into the less populated second floor, Eren couldn't help but follow. Nothing about any this was legal, anyways. What's one more law?

Eren passed by a few people, falling into the wall with a painful thud, and he caught Levi right around the corner of one of the bedrooms. Lips were immediately on his, rough and demanding and perfect. Eren sighed into it, his head spinning when Levi shoved him back against the door to slam it shut. He bucked his hips, a pathetic little whine melting into the kiss when he felt Levi's hard on rub against his thigh.

"Please," Eren gasped between kisses, "Levi, please -"

Levi bit his lip, almost hard enough to hurt, asking in a low, growling slur, "Please what?"

Eren wasn't even really sure what he wanted through the jumbled mess of his thoughts, not until he really focused on it.

He'd give anything to bounce on Levi's dick, to be claimed by the bruises that Levi's fingertips would leave on his thighs. He wanted it to burn, wanted to feel it for days after, fuck himself open on Levi's cock until all he knew was Levi's name. But then Levi fumbled at his jeans with clumsy, drunken fervor, quickly giving up and dragging him over to the bed instead. Then it was easier to imagine Levi on top of him, teeth rough on his throat, hands roaming wherever they wished. He craved it so badly, craved the sweet, numbing burn of a cock fucking him open like a whore, the dull ache of it later when he left the bed.

Eren assumed he murmured some nonsense, the world spinning too wildly for him to comprehend a single coherent thought, only that his pants were uncomfortably tight, that it was too hot for clothes, that Levi was too perfect, too stunning. He'd beg if he could, rip off his clothes if he wasn't so high, and Levi wasn't doing any better. Clumsily, lazily mouthing at his neck, swaying as Eren finally undid his jeans.

Eren pulled out his cock, whining at the feel of it in his hand, and he craved the feeling of it inside him. He stroked once, knowing just how good it'd feel, how the come would spill out onto his inner things, and he'd finger himself open after and lick it off his fingers just to make a point -

He stroked again, and suddenly, Levi jerked, burying his head into Eren's shoulder.

For a long while in the nebulous, lazy heat, Eren merely laid there, unable to comprehend exactly why they hit such an abrupt stop. Then he felt it; the stickiness on his fingers, the uncomfortable weight of Levi laying on top of him, and finally, after an eternity, the snoring.

Eren was pathetic. He knew he was. Never even looked at a college until exam season. Didn't even plan on applying for a job yet. He didn't even know plums grew on trees until last summer. There were many pathetic, boring, absolutely disappointing things about him and his life.

But this?

This took the cake.