It was bitterly cold when Eren got out of his car and his breath immediately fogged in a cloud in front of his face. He pocketed his keys and slammed his car door, not bothering to lock it. Who would steal the piece of shit, anyway? Dragging on his gloves he briskly started on the trek to the school building, his feet crunching on the frozen gravel of the lot.

He was pissed off. He hated late classes and this one in particular; Child Development. He had no problem with kids it was just that the class was so fucking boring. He'd taken it as a recommended elective and had regretted it ever since. Well, nothing he could do about it now. He glanced at his watch. Shit, it was getting late. He jammed his hands into his coat pockets and stepped up his pace.

He made it through the door of the lecture hall just as Mr. Shadis was completing roll call.

"Here!"

Shadis, a thin tall man with a dark attempt at facial hair, scowled at him. "Thank you for joining us today, Mr. Yeager."

"No problem," Eren shot back, grinning. He found his preferred seat (right at the front but way off to one side next to the windows) and plopped down.

"Now," Shadis said, "If you'll turn to page 104 in your books ..."

Eren immediately zoned out, slouching in his seat like a sack of potatoes. It was only two minutes into class and he was already bored. Bored, bored, bored.

South Wall Community College was the only institute of higher learning in Shiganshina. Most kids went to Trost University or to one of the big colleges in Sina.

Only losers went to South Wall.

Eren shifted in his seat, and gazed out the window as Shadis droned on.

Eren wasn't a loser, of course. Of course he wasn't! He could have gotten into Trost! He grimaced to himself. Well … he could have. If he'd actually done his high school work rather than playing hooky and fighting. It was a wonder he'd graduated at all.

He sighed and let his gaze wander around the room. The room was fairly large—one of South Wall's 'big' lecture halls—and shaped like an amphitheater but was pretty empty. There were only about 20 people in the whole class and he didn't know many of them. A shocking number of his friends went to the small college (there were only four high schools in Shiganshina) but none of them took this course. Most of the students in the class were girls, though there were a handful of guys, and all were about his age. Except for one guy.

Eren noticed him suddenly, and sat upright to get a better look.

He didn't remember ever seeing the guy before. He studied him not-so-discreetly. The guy was an odd one. He looked youngish but seemed more mature than everyone else. He also had an air of … well … exhaustion about him. He sat in the very back row, closest to the door, several seats away from anyone else, all by himself. Eren hadn't noticed him when he came in. Had he come in late? He was clearly very poor. His clothes looked clean but very worn. He was dressed monochromatically—all black; black jeans, black t-shirt, battered classic black all-star hi-tops. He even had a ratty black leather jacket over everything.

Eren wondered idly if he was homeless, maybe living in his car. Or a drug dealer. Or a prostitute. He let his mind lazily chew over all the possibilities he could think of then he got bored.

Eren tried doodling in his notebook, then in his textbook (which his dad had bought,) then tried looking out the window. His mind was drawn back to the people in the classroom, particularly the weird guy.

Unfortunately, where Eren's seat was caused him to have to practically turn all the way around to study the guy. He did so as surreptitiously as possible. The guy was kinda cute, actually, in a bad-boy, thuggish way. Black hair that fell over his forehead and parted naturally to one side, sharp cheekbones and jaw, small, equally sharp nose. His skin was very pale but not sickly, a sort of creamy porcelain.

"Mr. Yeager. Are you with us?"

Eren jumped. The instructor was staring at him and, he knew, so was the whole class. "Uhh, yes, Sir!"

"What was the last thing I said?"

Eren blushed hard. He had no idea.

"Pay attention, Mr. Yeager, or leave my classroom."

Eren slouched down in his seat, nodding. He could feel the burning stares of everyone else in the classroom. Stupid weird guy. He had caused this.

After class, Eren walked the long trek out to his car in the distant gravel parking lot leased by the school. Eren was a freshman and he hated it. He hated parking in this shitty lot, hated that his classmates were mostly 18 or 19 year olds while he was 21.

Eren had taken a couple of years off after high school to his father's great disgust. His mother had, of course, supported his decision entirely. What his father thought didn't matter one small shit to Eren anyway. He never saw the man. He did appreciate him in a grudging way; Grisha was a successful doctor and Eren and his mom had never wanted for anything. Still, Eren wished that he wasn't so fucking overbearing and had at least gotten him a decent car.

Eren finally reached the car in question, a little blue 2010 Honda civic with low miles and brand new tires thanks to his dad. Eren kicked one of the tires viciously then had to hop around for a minute holding his bruised toes and cursing.

He got in his car in a huff and churned up a plume of gravel leaving. As he turned onto the main road, Eren saw the weird guy from his Child Development class walking down the sidewalk. He slowed way down. So he didn't have a car? What was he doing? Catching the bus?

As Eren drove on he looked back at the guy in his rear-view mirror until he rounded a curve.

Irritatingly, Eren couldn't not notice the guy from then on, couldn't keep from glancing around when he entered the classroom and looking for him. The next day was Friday—they all took the course for one hour, five days a week—and he noted that the man wasn't in the room. Eren scanned the entire auditorium as he slowly walked down to his seat. No weird guy.

Eren heard the door open about ten minutes later and the guy came in. He slipped into class quickly and almost silently before anyone of the bored students could even react. Eren noticed that he wore mulberry-colored scrubs over the predictable black long-sleeved t-shirt.

Huh. The man must have something worked out with Shadis, who was normally a hard-ass and a grumpy old fuck because Shadis didn't even pause in his lecture.

Eren spent the rest of his day wondering about him.

Eren had had a few beers and was lounging around on the couch. He'd just been playing League but all his friends had had to bail so he stopped. Now he was bored.

Jean was at work, he wasn't hungry, he was at a loss as to what to do. He let his gaze wander around the room. It landed on his backpack and he quickly averted his eyes. It was Friday, he wasn't doing shit for homework until the last minute on Sunday night. He would take a shower but he'd just taken one a couple of hours ago. He was out of beer.

He sighed, put upon. If Jean got off work before fuck o'clock at night he could've brought him some more beer. He was too lazy to walk down to the corner store and besides, he was out of money. Again.

Shit.

Eren's hand strayed to his cock and he stroked lightly. In the manner of 21 year olds in all of existence, Li'l Eren woke right up. Eren grinned and scootched down the couch, onto his back. Ahh, just the thing. Now, what to think about?

The dark-haired guy from his class sprang into his mind and his cock swelled encouragingly.

Eren fished into his sweatpants and gripped himself firmly, then paused.

Jesus. He knew nothing about the man other than he looked like a criminal and was hot as fuck. Hell, he might even be homeless. His cock ignored him, growing firmer. Shit!

He resolutely took his hand out of his pants. No. Nope. Uh-uh. He didn't even know if the guy was gay. The image of the man's face, pale, sharp, with cheekbones that could cut glass crept into the forefront of his mind. His cock stirred at that.

Jesus, his hands were nice, too. White and strong and big for his size with long fingers like a pianist or some shit.

God, he was fully hard.

Eren sighed again. Oh well. A fantasy was just a fantasy, right? Jerking off to the guy wouldn't make it awkward, would it? It's not like they ever talk to each other. They didn't even know each other.

He dug into his sweats again, pulling the fabric down and freeing his cock. He took himself in hand and squeezed, giving a slow pull. He groaned at the sensation. Man, the guy's pale hands would look good on Eren's tan skin. He wondered if they were soft or if he did some work that left callouses? He sure as hell didn't look like a twink, he was lean and muscular with broad shoulders. He could see him fixing cars or repairing plumbing or something; building fucking birdhouses. Eren pictured the man sawing wood, his shoulder muscles flexing under a plain white tee. Then he imagined him taking off that tee. Slowly.

"Oh, yeah …" Eren's hand started up a rhythm. He was trying to stroke slowly, he had the apartment to himself for a while (and he could hear a key in the lock at any rate) so he had time. He forced himself to calm down. He went back to his fantasy.

Slowly, slowly peeling that slightly sweat-damp shirt over his head, his lean belly, dusky colored nipples, hard in the suddenly cool air. His goody trail would be black, like the hair on his head (if that was his natural hair color) and would disappear into his jeans. His jeans would be slung low on his narrow hips, showing the deep V of ligaments leading down.

Eren sighed, upping his stroke.